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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29366310">An Unlucky Bastard</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotsureaboutanyofthis/pseuds/imnotsureaboutanyofthis'>imnotsureaboutanyofthis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Addiction, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inquisitor Alistair, Lyrium Addiction, Lyrium Withdrawal, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Canon Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Slow Burn, Trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:02:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,378</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29366310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotsureaboutanyofthis/pseuds/imnotsureaboutanyofthis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair comes to the Conclave with top secret Grey Warden business and then boom! Everyone's dead, his hand glows and Leliana'scary friend is asking him weird questions. And like that wasn't enough, there's a huge hole in the sky and demons swooping down on them.</p><p>And Alistair may have no idea what's happening, but at least one thing is always certain: swooping is bad.<br/>***<br/>Inquisitor!Alistair au bc why not</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alistair/Cullen Rutherford</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alistair finds himself in a cell. Not for the first time, but that doesn't make it any better.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ok so if you're interested in what is the 'world state' of DAO and Awakening and DA2 etc for this fic, i'm going to list most important stuff here<br/>BUT<br/>if you don't want any spoilers feel free to skip it<br/>(all of this is gonna be revealed at some point in the story, so this list is mostly for me and those who may find themselves confused at some point)</p><p>- Female Amell is the Hero of Ferelden, who is currently in a long-distance relationship with Leliana;<br/>- Alistair did the Dark Ritual with Morrigan, so everybody's alive;<br/>- Alistair hadn't started taking lyrium during his templar training back at the chantry, but while travelling with Amell and others he started taking it to stand chance against darkspawn warlocks etc;<br/>- He managed to get clean however, thanks to Amell and a special treatment she came up with;<br/>- Alistair wasn't "hardened" during the Blight and he wasn't forced to become King, he gladly allowed Anora to take over and swore to never lay any claims to the throne again;<br/>- Wardens reclaimed Soldier’s Peak and Avernus was spared by Amell to continue his research ethically;<br/>- Both Amell and Alistair followed Avernus’ instructions to acquire the hidden powers of their tainted blood;<br/>- Both Amell and Alistair served at the Vigil's Keep during the events of Awakening, Amell as the Commander (ofc) and Alistair as her second in command; (Leliana and the others from the og squad weren't there tho, except for Oghren ofc)<br/>- All of Awakening companions are alive and stayed at the Vigil's Keep, serving as Wardens; (except for Anders and Justice ofc)<br/>- Alistair came to Kirkwall during the Qunari Invasion with Carver Hawke and met all of Hawke's companions;<br/>- According to what Alistair says in the Fade in DAI, the events of "The Silent Grove" and following comic books are canon despite what came of Alistair after the events of DAO, as long as he's alive ofc so I guess he went looking for his father in his free time from his Warden duties?<br/>- That means Alistair became friends with both Varric and Isabela at some point;<br/>- Btw Alistair and Cullen were training together as young recruits for some time, bc that's a must for this ship;<br/>- Garret Hawke, who was himself a mage, sided with the mages, he is currently in an open relationship with Isabela;<br/>- All of Hawke's companions are alive, Sebastian waged war on Kirkwall tho bc he's a dick and nobody likes him;<br/>- At some point Amell left Alistair in charge of Vigil's Keep and hit the road, looking for more information and trying to find some more about the Architect (she spared him during Awakening), the Blight, Darkspawn and everything;<br/>- That's also when said Emissary, Corypheus, started his fake-calling shit;<br/>- He ordered Fereldan Wardens to stay at the Vigil's Keep and wait for further instructions, leaving Nathaniel in charge, and then left looking for answers;<br/>- He tried to follow some rogue group of Wardens who were heading to Haven;<br/>- And that led him to the Conclave.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had to be Tuesday, Alistair was <em> sure </em> of it. Shit like this could only happen on a Tuesday.</p><p>Although he had to take into consideration his current lack of orientation, as he had no idea where he was or how much time had passed since his arrival at Haven. But Andraste's Flaming Knickers, it most definitely <em> felt </em> like a Tuesday. He would gladly list all the other reasons why this day could count as a Tuesday based on how bad it was - that would at least bring some distraction from shackles around his wrist and weapons aimed at him - but he heard more footsteps coming his way. Well, distant footsteps weren't really that unusual in Haven's dungeons at the moment, but he had spent enough time around various soldiers to sense that those footsteps belonged to someone in command. Soldiers all around him straightened up and got completely quiet. Alistair slowly raised his head, cautious not to alarm angry armed people in his cell but also not to wake this... <em> thing </em> on his hand. Or maybe inside his hand? His arm? He wasn't sure, but he had already learned that the more he moved, the more frequent those painful bursts of green light were. Or maybe he was just trying to convince himself that they weren't completely random, in any case staying still and focusing on just breathing seemed to help ignore the pain radiating from somewhere in his left hand.</p><p>Two figures entered his cell, both already familiar. The first one belonged to the Seeker, a scary looking woman named Cassandra. Alistair had no idea what kind of person she would be in different circumstances, but since he had met her earlier during this disaster of an endless Tuesday, she was constantly reminding him both of an angry mob and a ruthless predator closing in on his prey. What was the purpose of the Seekers, he didn't know, but at the moment Cassandra seemed to be seeking only one thing - a person guilty for what happened there. And Alistair was her top suspect. After Ostagar and the Blight he expected being blamed for something he had nothing to do with would be easier but... well, he actually had no idea what had happened or if he was guilty.</p><p>Familiarity of the second visitor was much more painful. She was wearing a different set of armour than he was used to and had her face hidden in the hood of her cloak, but he recognized her anyway. Leliana, once his comrade and one of his best friends, was glaring at him and there was no warmth, no friendship he wanted to find in her.</p><p>- Leliana, you have to tell them, I - he tried to speak, but his body betrayed him again, sending a strong jolt of pain through his whole arm. He yelped and curled on the cold stone floor, but in the fading green light of his hand Leliana's face looked even colder. And she hasn't spoken a word yet, stood by and watched instead as the Seeker circled him slowly. In thirty years he had spent on this miserable excuse of a life he had been in many dangerous situations and had found himself surrounded by far more powerful and vicious enemies... and yet he felt more petrified by the Seeker walking circles around his restrained body than he did when facing High Dragon in the near mountains ten years prior.</p><p>- Tell me why we shouldn't kill you nnow.</p><p>He wasn't sure if this was an actual command, but it didn't really matter as he was too stunned to speak. He remembered... appearing somewhere, tired and wounded and very much <em> alone </em> . He remembered soldiers appearing and taking him somewhere, down to this dungeon, he guessed. He knew it was Haven, he knew he came here following a new lead in his and Luaine's <em> top-secret-warden-investigation </em> but... what has happened in between? He had trouble recalling even slightest details and Cassandra wasn't going to wait patiently for him to collect his discarded thoughts.</p><p>- The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead - he could hear the slight tremble in her voice but still she seemed collected. Much more collected than Alistair was on a similar occasion ten years prior - Except for you.</p><p>Alistair was aware he needed to be cautious about every word leaving his stupid mouth right now, but that didn't stop him from stating the obvious.</p><p>- You think I did it - he said, words barely escaping his sore throat. Before he could gather more coherent thoughts, the Seeker grabbed his left wrist and yanked it in front of his face, as if he wasn't aware of that... <em> thing </em> on his hand.</p><p>- Explain this - she ordered and he really wanted to argue that he would really appreciate some explanation himself, but another burst of green energy shot through him, forcing another groan out of him.</p><p>- I-I can't... - he tried to look at Cassandra and then at Leliana looking for compassion, for comfort. He had found none.</p><p>- What do you mean you can't!?</p><p>The Seeker was clearly losing her patience. In other circumstances, Alistair could use this to his advantage, to distract his jailor and try to escape, whatever. But he had a feeling the world outside hadn't become more Alistair-friendly during his stay. And what was that about the Conclave being destroyed? He looked at his hand pulsating with strange energy, but it offered no answers. Unless it was trying to communicate through glowing and sudden jolts of pain; if so, the only message he could read from those was <em> Hi Alistair, it's me again, the Maker. Don't mind me, I'm just working on new ways to make your life even more miserable. Don't you feel like your pathetic bastard existence could use some green sparks of death and destruction? </em></p><p>He had to fight this new strong need to taint the so-called holy ground of Haven with some brand new blasphemous curses he came up with, but the Seeker was waiting for answers he didn't have.</p><p>- I ss-, I swear I have no idea what that thing is, o-or how it got on my hand - he tried to explain (or come up with more excuses and guesses), cursing his stuttering (it always came back at the absolute worst moments) but he didn't get the chance before the Seeker... <em>did</em> <em>something</em>. There was a sudden glimpse of fury in her eyes as she clenched her fist. He was expecting a blow right to his face and winced, waiting for the strike but instead felt the punch coming from <em>the</em> <em>inside. </em>He felt like his insides were boiling, as his muscles have suddenly strained as if trying to either put out the fire in his veins or just rip themselves away from them and his body. He fell and tried to curl on the cold stones beneath him, praying for them to take some of this heat away, his mind blinded with pain.</p><p>And then it stopped, all of a sudden, the same way it appeared. He gasped for air, not aware he was holding his breath before. - We need him, Cassandra - he heard the familiar voice of his old friend. Its tone has almost managed to soothe his pain and cool down his skin. He blinked away the tears and looked up at the Seeker, trying his best to hide the horror he had just experienced. He had felt like it only once before, in Denerim when that Tevinter slaver grasped him with his blood magic. It wasn't the same feeling, but definitely a similar kind and level of pain.</p><p>- What on Mapherat's Steaming Shit was that!? Blood magic? - he asked, no longer trying to control what was coming out from his mouth. He knew it had to be something else, as he was sure Divine's Right Hand was not in fact a mage, but what definitely <em> did </em> feel like some really awful spell, like a Morrigan kind of curse.</p><p>- What do you remember? How did you get here? Why are you here? - Leliana was asking the questions now, no less threatening even without crazy witch tricks. Maybe the fact he was perfectly aware of what she could do to her enemies was doing the trick for him; whatever the reason, he did not find much comfort in that change of dynamic. Leliana was just as scary as her friend.</p><p>- Leliana I swear, I don't know what happened, I... - he started.</p><p>- Just <em> try </em> to remember, anything - she insisted, her tone harsher even though she phrased it almost like she was just trying to encourage him to try a new pair of shoes or something. He took a deep breath, trying to collect his memories once again.</p><p>- Me and Luaine... I mean, me and W-wa-warden-Commander Amell were investigating those, umm, <em> unusual </em> Darkspawn I-I'm sure she has told you about... - he started, trying to find any kind of confirmation or approval in Leliana's gaze. He got a single nod, which he considered a good start - I have also received reports about various Wardens getting <em> lost </em>. We have also lost touch with most of the Orlesian Wardens and... - he hesitated, not sure if telling his interrogators about the Calling, but then he realized it somehow got weaker. He could remember how back at the Vigil's Keep it was always somewhere in the background, like an irritating tune stuck in his mind, but now it was barely noticeable. As far as he knew, it could be just the pain and stress distracting him, but even as he tried to focus on it, it was almost like this energy radiating from his hand was muffling it.</p><p>- Continue - Cassandra demanded, bringing him back from his poorly-timed revelation.</p><p>- Rr-right, I'm sorry. The point is, some Wardens were going rogue and I decided to leave Vigil's Keep to gather more information. That was... two months ago, I think? What day is it? - he wondered, but neither Leliana or Cassandra seemed eager to enlighten him, so he kept going - Anyway, when I stayed at "The Spoiled Princess", you remember the place, right, Leliana? Alright, to the point. A heard rumours about a group of unknown Wardens wandering to the mountains and I was following their trail until I reached Haven, and then... - he was getting almost excited, the memories finally setting into their place in his head, until everything just blurred again. He must have looked especially dumb, looking at his hand with his mouth gaping and twitching, like he was trying to pronounce a word in a language he saw for the first time in his life while hangover and... Well, the point is, he could no longer remember anything.</p><p>- I don't know what has happened next, I swear. I just remember running somewhere, running <em> away </em> from something, I think? And then there was this... woman? - he was mumbling, trying to recall anything. Everything was blurry, but he could recall a few sounds, images and a figure of a woman. Or was she really a woman? Whatever or whoever they were, he could see a hand reaching for him... to help him.</p><p>- A woman? - Leliana seemed a little bit surprised. Alistair took that hint of emotion as another promising sign that his old friend did not in fact turn Tranquil.</p><p>- She... She reached out to me, and then… Damn it! - he cursed as his mind failed him again. But now he was sure something happened before he had found himself in the temple ruins, surrounded by soldiers. He wasn't exactly sure where that new certainty came from, but the memory of that woman-ish figure seemed to clarify in his memories, to some extent at least.</p><p>- Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take him to the rift - the Seeker spoke once again, calmer this time. Leliana gave him one last look, and for a moment he could see the worry and uncertainty in her eyes. It wasn't the comfort he hoped for, but it managed to calm him down a little as well. As she left, Cassandra kneeled next to him with a lovely metallic clanging sound of keys. She removed his shackles and helped him to his feet. His hands were still restrained, of course, but it was progress. Alistair winced at the pain and exhaustion spreaded across all of his muscles, but managed to stand on his own. He still had his chainmail on with the rest of his Warden set, but he could easily tell how badly damaged everything was. He had no idea what happened after he reached Haven, but judging from weird stains he could see covering his griffon emblem and most of the armor and by the overall smell, he must've gone through some real shit.</p><p>- What <em> did </em>happen? - he asked, not sure whom, not sure if he really wanted to know. Cassandra didn't seem to be any more certain than him.</p><p>- It... will be easier to show you.</p><p>- You know, I hate when people say that...</p><p>***</p><p>The Seeker was right. Alistair was looking straight at the problem and still had no idea how to form any coherent sentence about what he was seeing. All he could come up with so far was <em> big... green... what the fuck? </em></p><p>- We call it the Breach - Cassandra stated, ever the helpful - It is a massive rift to the Fade. Many more have appeared all around Haven, but this was the first one, the biggest one. It appeared on the sky after the explosion.</p><p>- The explosion? W-what explosion?</p><p>- Explosion that destroyed the Conclave - she said, looking at the sky ripped apart. Her presence wasn't definitely soothing, but he could recognize the determination in her posture, in the way she gazed at the Breach, focused on the enemy. It felt good to be around someone who appeared to have at least a tiny bit of confidence in what they were doing. Alistair definitely was not the one to rely on right now - It caused the rift to appear and it is slowly growing since then. And it will continue to grow until it swallows the whole world - Alistair wouldn't mind some less certainty in <em> that </em> sentence, but unfortunately the Seeker seemed to have no doubts about that case. However before he could provide some optimistic doubts and hopes that were his forte, the Breach pulsed. He wasn't sure if it actually shined or thundered or however it appeared to anyone else, because Alistair himself felt the pulse right in his hand. It was almost like that <em> thing </em> inside his palm tried to jump out of him, happy to rip his flesh in the process. He would fall to his knees again if it wasn't for Cassandra to catch him.</p><p>- Each time the Breach expands, your mark does so as well. And it will kill you - she stated again with the same grim certainty he really <em> did not </em> need right now.</p><p>- I have already told you, I don't know what happened... - he almost begged, as the pain slowly faded.</p><p>- It will kill you. Unless we act - she continued and grabbed his hand, the left one, with <em> the mark </em> as she called it - It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time.</p><p>- The key to what? I don't know how this <em> mark </em> works, except that it hurts like a bitch! - he didn't mean to shout, but the situation was starting to overwhelm him. This chaos reminded him too much of Ostagar, of Denerim, Amaranthine, Kirkwall. <em> When will this finally end?, </em> he asked, looking at the so-called Breach in the distance. He had dealt with a lot of magic bullshit in the past, but that thing was beyond his comprehension. He knew that the matter of Fate's "location" was complicated, but he always imagined it like a place somewhere far away, accessible through some dreamy bridge at the world's end. But there it was - a ripped entrance in the sky leading right up that shithole.</p><p>Cassandra remained calm despite his slowly building breakdown.</p><p>- The key to closing the Breach. Whether it's possible we shall discover shortly, but it is our only chance. And <em> yours </em> too - her glare at the end of that sentence reminded Alistair that even when calm, the Seeker still could easily hurt him. He decided not to argue about his guilt further, especially because he actually had no idea what had happened. He could just hope he didn't really cause the explosion. <em> Knowing my luck, though... </em> he took a deep breath. <em> Here goes nothing. </em></p><p>- I understand - he said. The spark of surprise and hope in Cassandra's eyes almost brought a smile to his lips, but he reminded himself that he could be signing his own death sentence right now - I will do what I can. Whatever it takes - he continued. </p><p><em>As Wardens always should. Sacrifice is the only way. Evading it always comes with a</em> <em>price,</em> he grimly reminded himself. But it wasn't time for him to wallow in self-pity right now. He wasn't <em>that</em> pathetic, there was job to be done - Lead the way, Seeker.</p><p>***</p><p>The trip to the gates was not pleasant and it has brought back some not-so-sweet memories from the Blight. The way those people looked at him right now was not that different from the times when half of Ferelden believed him and Luaine to be traitors and kingslayers... at least he thought so at first. He has quickly realized that it was much more personal for these people; Cailan's was not really a well-loved king and all the other losses at Ostagar concerned mostly those whose relatives served in the army. But these people, they were mostly pilgrims, Divine's servants and soldiers and clearly they cared much more about her death. So if the huge glowing rift in the sky wasn't enough reason for them to kill him, blaming him for the murder of Justinia definitely did the trick.</p><p>As they walked Cassandra provided unnecessary commentary, as if he wasn't aware everyone wanted to see him hang. He had however realized that if it weren't for Cassandra and Leliana, the mob would already get their revenge. <em> And would that be so bad? Death by the hands of an angry mob isn't really at the top of my list of ways to go down, but I guess it beats being magically pulverized by a gaping demonic hole in the skies </em>, he thought. Cassandra looked at him, maybe sensing his grim mood, as they stood outside the gates. Not feeling hateful gazes on his back was a nice change, but leaving the fortress has also made the task upon even more real and therefore, horrifying.</p><p>- There will be a trial. That's all I can promise - she said and seemed almost sorry for it. It took him a second to realize what she was talking about. <em> Oh, so she actually believes I can close that thing and survive? That's strangely reassuring. </em></p><p>- Well, considering how trials usually go for unlucky bastards such as I, that’s not very promising, but let’s focus on demon-spawning thing in the skies, shall we? - he said and almost laughed at the face Cassandra was making. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be around people not used to his poor sense of humour. The Seeker wasn’t distracted for long though and when she pulled out her knife, he almost thought she was going to gut him for his joke, but no. Instead, she finally cut the rope around his wrists. His whole body was still quite sore, but getting to move more freely definitely helped.</p><p>They moved on through the bridge. Alistair wouldn’t call it a nice afternoon stroll, but it couldn’t see any demons around yet, so he hoped for some time to clear his head and maybe come up with any sort of plan. <em> Is she expecting me to use this mark? Can I use it? </em>, he wondered. He definitely could feel some sort of energy shifting within his hand from time to time, apparently whenever the Breach was having a growth spurt, but except for that, he had no idea how it worked.</p><p>He raised the wounded (<em> was it a wound? </em>) palm, touching it gently with his other hand. The mark didn’t burn him, but touching it was… weird. He tried not to look frantically between it and the Breach, but he definitely could feel that those really were connected in some twisted way. He had to admit - it scared him.</p><p>Before he could study the mark any more, it exploded once again. Or did the explosion come from somewhere else? He wasn’t sure what was happening around him as the pain blinded him. He could hear Cassandra shouting as the ground beneath them shifted, and then he was falling.</p><p>Luckily for them, they hit another surface soon; luckily, because Alistair wasn’t in a mood for <em> life-flashing-before-one’s-eyes </em> type of falling. He found himself on what looked like a frozen lake, which miraculously didn’t break and swallow them when they fell. But that didn’t mean they were safe. Just as they managed to regain their balance, there was another flash of green light and a demon appeared. </p><p>- Stay behind me - Cassandra ordered, charging at the enemy. The demon was one of the Shade kind, which, at least in his experience, weren’t usually that big of a challenge, so he had faith in Seeker’s skill to deal with it alone. However when ice next to him blackened and started to glow that familiar green light, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple for him.</p><p>He could feel the demon crossing the Veil before his eyes actually registered his shadowy figure. It was like a shiver coming from his left hand, or maybe more like a buzz on his skin there. It kind of reminded him of how he was able to sense the presence of Darkspawn and other Wardens or whatever that was Tainted… <em> So the mark can sense demons? Or Fade-y stuff? That’s something. </em></p><p>The Seeker was still fighting the other demon and was apparently unaware of the other one moving towards Alistair. He didn’t know if the Breach was somehow closing in on them and sent the creatures to hunt them down and frankly, he didn’t care at this point. His anger was building up inside him and when in the corner of his eyes he saw a sword laying on the ice, he let it loose. He leaped for the blade and as his hand closed on the hilt, his strength came back to his tired limbs and sore muscles. With his fury fueling him again, he charged at the demon.</p><p>His armor was barely holding together, he had no shield and the sword definitely couldn’t compare to the Starfang, the blade Drydens made for him during the Blight, but he had fought with far worse equipment back in the day. And besides, the point of using a shield was to rely on extra cover and be more defensive and his left arm in its current state wasn’t really reliable.</p><p>Fighting demons was always messy and Shades could be extra tricky, but this one stood no chance. His strikes were cutting through its ugly flesh, not drawing any blood but weakening it. He was pushing the demon towards the bridge’s remains, trying to corner it (as much as a shapeshifting demon can be cornered) and each time his blade sank into the demon, the humiliation he felt was leaving his mind. Battlefields were familiar to Alistair and fighting was something he learned to enjoy over the years. Well, at least when he was winning in the end.</p><p>The Shade let out some kind of a hiss as it received another strike. It had nowhere to escape and each time it tried to attack, Alistair’s sword was slashing at its misshapen clawed arms. Part of him wanted to keep it at that for a while, let the creature tire itself out and let it hurt. But he managed to get himself together, grabbed the sword in both his hands and went for the final blow, stabbing the demon right through its monstrous chest. He felt like his ears were bleeding from the screams it made, but he kept his grip and pushed harder, twisting the blade a little. </p><p>The demon, however, kept struggling as it extended his arm in a way that should not be possible and sank its claws in his left arm, almost reaching the shoulder. Alistair growled, but did not pull away. He let the pain fuel his anger even more and pushed the blade buried in his enemy down, ripping through its flesh until it reached the icy surface of the lake and the demon disintegrated into a pool of shadowy matter.</p><p>But the fight was not over. Cassandra was fighting two new Shades now and clearly could use some backup. Letting the fury drive him further into his battle trance. It was harder to keep it under control than usual, but losing memory, getting imprisoned and blamed for a mass murder (again) could do that to a man, even one who learned the ways of Berserkers from an ex-warrior-caste dwarf drunkard… Or maybe <em> especially </em> to that one.</p><p>He took one of the Shades by surprise, shoving his blade through its back (or some demonic equivalent of a back, Fade anatomy was strange). It screamed as it turned back and leaped towards him, but he was ready. Just as with the first one, he kept pressing on the creature, forcing him to back down with vicious strikes until it dissolved into shadows again.</p><p>He looked around, scanning his surroundings for more enemies, but it seemed like they were good for now. Cassandra struck the last Shade down as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. <em> A bit reckless, but I needed that. Have to be more careful now, though. If we get to the top of that mountain with my limbs cut to pieces, I doubt my mark will be of any use, </em> he thought, coming down from the adrenaline. He tried not to let himself completely loose though, as he was aware there was much more fighting to be done yet.</p><p>He sighed and opened his eyes to an unexpected, but already familiar view: Cassandra with her weapon raised at him. </p><p>- Drop your weapon. <em> Now </em> - she ordered and he obeyed. Call him submissive or whatever, but he knew when not to argue with an armed woman. </p><p>- Fine, fine! But unless you expect some reinforcements, you may need my help on the way. I doubt the demons are gonna wait with me politely for you to finish them one by one - he said, although with his arms raised in surrender. For a moment, they were both silent.</p><p>- You’re right - the Seeker sighed as she sheathed her sword - I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless.</p><p>She watched him as he picked up the sword again and then they crossed the frozen lake to get back on track. There were more discarded supplies in various states, but he managed to find the sheath for his new sword. He wondered what happened to the Starfang; he could just Leliana recognized it and didn’t let some random soldier just take it or throw it away… if he even had it with him when he appeared at the ruins before he was imprisoned. </p><p>- I should remember you agreed to come willingly - he heard his companion and raised his head. She held a shield in her arms, a Templar shield by the looks of it, similar to the one she had strapped on her back. It took him a second before he realized she was offering to him… or maybe ordering to wear it. It was hard to tell, but the Seeker looked at him differently than before.</p><p>- Don’t mention it - he mumbled and took the shield, feeling its weight on his left arm. He still wasn’t going to trust his magic-infested hand to provide him enough protection, but that was something.</p><p>- Also drink that, might help with your shoulder for now - she passed him a bottle with a familiar liquid inside.</p><p>- Oh thank the damn Maker, you’re a saint, Seeker, gotta tell you - he said quickly and tried not to drink all of the potion at once, as he expected more wounds in the near future.</p><p>- Let’s keep going. It’s not far from here.</p><p>***</p><p>Turns out distance is even more relative with demons falling from the sky every few minutes. On the brighter side, he and Cassandra managed to find their rhythm on the battlefield. Their fighting styles were a bit different, though. Alistair learned his basics from the Templars back at the Chantry, but during his years with Grey Wardens he picked up a lot of different skills. It seemed like Cassandra was also not a typical Templar when it came to fighting, though she was more focused on the defense than him, which was working for both of them so far. </p><p>Also he was thankful for her Templar abilities, much more developed than his ever were, even back when he was still taking lyrium. There were no hostile mages running around, but she managed to wipe out some Wraiths with her Smite, stopping their ranged attacks who were a real pain in the ass while fighting Shades and Terrors. </p><p>- Good thinking - he spoke, once all (“all”) of the enemies were dealt with - I guess I should expect the Right Hand of the Divine to be more skilled than your average Templar. </p><p>- Maybe that’s because I’m not exactly a Templar - she said, which seemed quite contrary to her smiting demons just a moment ago, at least for Alistair, but he wasn’t going to argue with an armed and <em> smiting </em> woman - And what about you? I was told you were a Templar yourself, but… you don’t seem to be one - she spoke again as they kept going. </p><p>- Oh? What gave me away? Was it the swearing or lack of skirts?</p><p>- Lack of discipline, more likely.</p><p>- I will take that as a compliment. By the way, is this a part of the interrogation? Because I like it better that way. The fresh air and even fresher wounds really make me want to confess all my guilts, you know?</p><p>Cassandra didn’t seem impressed with this show of his charming personality so far, but he <em> did </em> see a hint of a smile on her. Or maybe it was just a contraction. </p><p>- I was just curious. I won’t force an answer out of you - she responded and Alistair took her choice of words seriously. <em> She won’t, but she definitely could. </em> </p><p>- Well if you’re <em> that </em> intrigued… I got the Templar training, but I have never taken vows. During the Blight I started practicing again, Darkspawn have mages too if you’re not aware...</p><p>- I am aware.</p><p>- ...and I kept at it for a while after the Blight ended, but, well, I decided to stop. Not really a fan of syringes and stuff, you know? - he said and the surprise on Cassandra’s face brought him some satisfaction once again. When out of balance she seemed much more a person and less Force-and-Violence personified.</p><p>- You <em> decided </em> ? - she asked and Alistair winced slightly. <em> Stupid Alistair, as always. </em> </p><p>- Well, to be fair I had a little bit of help from my friends, but yeah, I haven’t been taking it for about seven years. I did learn some other ways to fight more efficiently, though - he hoped the Seeker would fall for the change of topic.</p><p>- I saw that much. It’s a bit… wild, but it seems to get the job done.</p><p>
  <em> Sounds like a compliment. Was that a compliment?  </em>
</p><p>- Was that a compliment, Seeker? - he asked, smiling one of his best smiles, the one Zevran declared as “the charming one”. Not everyone agreed. Especially Velanna.</p><p>- I was stating a fact, Warden - she answered, and then pointed to some buildings in the distance - Come on, we’re close to the forward camp.</p><p>***</p><p>When he heard the fighting he was almost relieved. </p><p>- Allies, I hope? - he asked Cassandra as they sped up the hill. She didn’t need to answer, as there were indeed soldiers dressed in a similar way to those at Haven. They were fighting some demons across some ruined settlement, while <em> something </em> hovered above them. It was similar to the Breach on the sky in some way, but smaller and much, much closer which only made it more overwhelming. The green rift in the clouds seemed distant enough to pretend it was some anomaly, some weird magical lights, scary but not dangerous. This one right before his eyes, however, was a real deal and he couldn’t deny it. It really was a rip in the fabric of reality, he could feel the Fade forcing itself through it. And most importantly, he could feel more demons coming from it.</p><p>- Watch out! - he tried to warn the soldiers as he saw more Shades forming behind them. Even if they heard him, they were already involved in a fight with their other enemies. He ran towards them, watching in horror as the creatures sneaked upon them…</p><p>...and then they were blasted to pieces with fire. As the flames faded, he saw an elf behind the smoking curtain. He was wielding a staff. He nodded in his and Cassandra’s direction. </p><p>- He’s on our side - she explained, for which Alistair was grateful. He preferred to know these things before he entered a fight with a mage in close proximity. He would also like to know if said mage had a habit of releasing any sort of freezing spells in random directions, because his experiences with both Morrigan and Anders teached him that it was always suspiciously easy for him to find himself passing right before those kinds of spells at the worst moments.</p><p>Sadly, there was no time to get any sort of warnings. The rift spawned two more Terrors. He went for the nearest one, trying to damage it before it would sink to the ground. And he succeeded, stabbing it as it was about to jump at one of the soldiers. He hoped to get its attention to buy some time for the others, but the demon had other plans apparently, as it sank to the ground just as he feared. </p><p>- Sly fucker, show yourself! - he yelled in no particular direction and looked around, constantly moving; he had learned the worst thing to do when facing a Terror was to stand in one place. The trick was to be both quick and careful, to keep one’s surroundings in check… at which Alistair failed.</p><p>In his defense, his mark was really distracting as they got close to that rift. There were no more doubts, whatever was happening here had to be somehow connected to that thing on his hand. It was more than constant buzzing, the rift seemed to be almost pulling his arm towards it. He wanted to reach for it and… <em> And what then? I can’t really touch it, can I? </em>, he thought. And that thought almost doomed him.</p><p>He saw the earth glow but acted too slow. The Terror leaped from somewhere below his feet and slammed him to the ground. He saw the claws falling down on him and he knew there was no way he could raise his shield in time. And then he heard a familiar click and a projectile cutting through the air as a crossbow bolt nailed the demonic hand to a nearby wall. Before Alistair managed to get on his feet, the bolt suddenly exploded and whatever remained of that brick wall fell onto the creature. </p><p>- Varric? - he shouted before he saw the dwarf. But there he was, in all of his hairy glory: standing on some sort of pillar (<em> How did he get there?) </em>and reloading Bianca.</p><p>- Good to see you too, Prince Charming. But let's chat more once that thing is fully dead! - he shouted back and he was right. The Terror was no longer buried under the bricks but this time Alistair was ready. He felt the mark on his hand buzzing before he could see the glowing ground beneath him and dodged to the left just in time. The demon not only missed, but also got impaled by Alistair’s sword and as it opened its ugly jaws to let out whatever annoying noise, another bolt landed right in its throat.</p><p>He almost forgot the benefit of having a skilled archer on his side. Or a skilled crossbow wielder, in that case. Or a proud Bianca’s caretaker to be even more specific. He would gladly show his gratitude to the dwarf, especially as at the moment there were no more demons around, but the rift still unsettled him.</p><p>He ran towards Cassandra and the elf, hoping he had some way to stop more demons from appearing or something, but before he could say anything, the mage grabbed him by his wrist. </p><p>- Quickly, before more come through! - he said and yanked his left hand in the direction of the rift. He felt the energy of his mark somehow shifting and then it <em>bursted</em> <em>out of him.</em> There was something like a green lighting connecting him to the rift. The buzzing in his arm got so strong Alistair was almost sure it would just explode or fall off, but the elf kept his grip strong.</p><p>He wasn’t sure if it took a few seconds or an hour, but he felt his grip on the rift, somehow. Maybe it wasn’t exactly a<em> grip </em>, but he could feel its “edges”. He tried to gather them in his hand and clench it, stick them together… and they did. One last powerful burst of energy left his hand and the rift disappeared like it was never here.</p><p>The elf pulled away and Alistair looked at his palm. He could still feel it slightly trembling from whatever just happened, but also the pain was more bearable. </p><p>- What did you do? - he asked, finally getting a better look at the stranger. He was a very pale, bald elf. It was hard to tell elves’ age sometimes and that was the case with this one for sure; if he declared himself to be either 40 or 400 years old, Alistair would probably believe him. For a second he kinda reminded him or Zathrian or whatever that creep was called, but he didn’t have the same cold, spiteful aura around him the Dalish keeper used to have (at least before he finally redeemed himself in that awful werewolf lair). Also the stranger had none of those Dalish markings. He could never remember the name, only not to call them “tattoos”: Velanna made sure of that. But something told Alistair that with or without markings, this elf was neither from the human cities or any Circle.</p><p>- I did nothing. The credit is yours - he answered as it was that simple. </p><p>- Oh yeah, then I take it that thing you did with my arm was just a funny handshake? - he said and there it was, <em> the eye-roll </em>. The most common reaction Alistair ever got from people. The familiarity could almost put him at ease, in any other circumstances.</p><p>- Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand - explained the elf. So far it made sense, as the connection between the two was already made clear to Alistair. It gained some more certainty coming from a mage, however - I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake, and it seems I was correct.</p><p>- Meaning it could also close the Breach itself - Cassandra interrupted them and Alistair realized these two have already discussed the topic before.</p><p>- Possibly - the mage confirmed, or maybe rather allowed the possibility. Then he looked Alistair in the eyes and spoke again - It seems you hold the key to our salvation.</p><p>That declaration made his stomach tighten up. Something in the way the elf talked about all of this made him uneasy. It reminded him of that fateful day when Flemeth revealed his and Amell’s destinies to them. <em> I wonder if she foresaw this shitstorm as well.  </em></p><p>- Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever - Varric came to his rescue (again) - Glad to see you made it, Charming - they shook hands - I hope you don’t mind if I tag along? - he added, winking at Cassandra. She didn’t seem impressed, and Alistair had to admit it was nice not being the main target of Seeker’s gaze.</p><p>- So I take it you two already know each other? - she asked, eyeing both of them.</p><p>- Err, yes, we’ve made acquaintance - Alistair mumbled - But what are you doing here? I don’t suppose  you’re one of the pilgrims?</p><p>The elf behind him chuckled. The question seemed ridiculous to everyone. </p><p>- Technically I’m a prisoner, just like you - the dwarf answered, and honestly, Alistair wasn’t shocked.</p><p>- I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that’s no longer necessary - Cassandra reminded him but Alistair already knew it was never simple with Varric Tethras.</p><p>- Well, you and Bianca are always a welcome company, at least in my opinion - he said, looking between Varric and Cassandra. He wasn’t lying, the dwarf was really skilled with his weapon and the rest of their journey to the top of the mountain appeared to be quite challenging. </p><p>Cassandra grunted in disgust but nodded, to Alistair’s relief. Their chances of survival have just raised slightly above “ridiculously unlikely”. </p><p>The elf also decided to properly introduce himself. </p><p>- And my name is Solas. I am pleased to see you still live.</p><p><em> Oh, so we have met before? Or was he working for Cassandra? He doesn’t seem like a pilgrim either </em>, Alistair thought. Varric provided an explanation though, bless his soul.</p><p>- He means, “I kept that mark from killing you while you slept” - he said and Solas nodded in confirmation.</p><p>- And while we’re at it, let me quickly check that shoulder, alright? - he said, not really waiting for Alistair approval. He didn’t really mind it, though. He got used to magical healing over the years, even if most of the healers didn’t provide their patients with tea, warm blankets and a nice pat on the back like Wynne did. <em> Even Anders would let us play with Mr. Pounce-a-Lot while sealing most severe injuries to distract us… </em> he shook his head as it wasn’t the best time for daydreaming.</p><p>- Thanks. The Shade got me on our way here. The Seeker gave me a potion, but it has only stopped the bleeding - he explained as the mage worked - So, uhh, you seem to know a great deal about it all. I mean this mark and the rifts, not the healing. Although I’m sure your healing is just fine! - he talked, a bit nervous. Solas hadn’t done anything bad towards him so far, but nevertheless, he was a foreign mage working his spells on him for the first time. At least the first time while he was fully conscious. That stuff tended to make Alistair a little nervous, and therefore, more talkative. Or just blabbing, as some would say.</p><p>- Well, my travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage - Solas explained, confirming his suspicions - I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin.</p><p>And now he <em> definitely </em> reminded Alistair of Flemeth. He tried not to show his distrust, though, as Solas’ knowledge and skill seemed necessary to their success. Just as it was with Flemeth and Morrigan.</p><p>The elf finished his magic and stepped back. Alistair moved his arm around and found it fully mobile again. Actually he felt better everywhere, much less sore, still quite tired however. That was more than enough for him right now, even without the tea or the blanket.</p><p>- Thank you - he said again and Solas nodded before turning to the Seeker.</p><p>- Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. He is no mage. Indeed, I find it difficult to imagine <em> any </em> mage having such power - he said, not even looking at Alistair even though he was clearly defending him. <em> Alright, crazy apostate or not, this guy gets better and better </em>, he had to admit.</p><p>- Understood - Cassandra replied, looking at all three of them and then at the rest of the soldiers - Men, stay here. We can’t have trailing us on the way ahead. Now, we must get to the forward camp quickly.</p><p>***</p><p>To no one's surprise, their way ahead was filled with just as many demons. At least this time their enemies had no advantage in numbers, as they usually appeared in pairs or small groups so far. Having Varric and Solas with them also provided some versatility and took some burden from his and Cassandra’s shoulders. </p><p>- So… - Varric spoke once the last of the demons was destroyed - How did you get here?</p><p>- I don’t remember - Alistair sighed. Both he and the Seeker managed not to get any more injuries so far, thanks to Solas’ defensive spells, but still he was only getting more tired with each demonic assault.</p><p>- No, no, that’s exactly how they get you. When in doubt, make something up.</p><p>- That’s what <em> you </em>would do - Cassandra joined in, clearly irritated. </p><p>Alistair was in no mood to discuss it further however. Even with the deadly task awaiting, he was glad not to be interrogated in the dungeon and didn’t want to get back to the same difficult questions. </p><p>- Let’s focus on getting to that camp, shall we? - he suggested.</p><p>- That’s not gonna work either, kid…</p><p>It took a while and some more demons to kill before they reached their destination, but they managed. They reached another bridge and Cassandra let them further towards Leliana and an unknown man, a cleric judging by his clothes.</p><p>Alistair couldn’t decide if he wanted to see Leliana again after their short “meeting” in his cell. He knew she was a complicated person, but back in the day he could always see the joyful and kind girl from the Lothering Chantry who joined their fatal quest to defeat the Blight, despite everything. But now… he couldn’t find that girl in Leliana. Was it only because of the chaos around them? Because Cassandra and other Chantry people were around? He could not tell right now.</p><p>The cleric noticed them before Leliana did, or at least was the first one to give any reaction. </p><p>- Here they come - he spoke and suddenly Alistair knew they weren’t going to be friends. He looked at him and saw all the clerics and priests he learned to hate when growing up with them. The kind who would never see any conflict in praising Andraste and her deeds and punishing Alistair for his bastardish existence at the same time. </p><p>- you made it. Chancellor Roderick, this is… - Leliana walked to them, probably meaning to introduce Alistair. For a second he wondered how she would call him. <em> Warden Alistair? My friend Alistair? Our prisoner, Alistair? </em></p><p>- I know who he is - the man interrupted her. <em> You know nothing about me, you twat </em>, Alistair thought as he glared at him - As grand chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution - his tone was driving Alistair crazy, especially when he was still coming from his battle high, but he managed to stay still. Thankfully, Cassandra did not.</p><p>- “Order me”? You are a glorified clerk, a bureaucrat! - she almost spat, standing between Alistair and the cleric. Alistair had no illusions that Cassandra was mostly just angry at the man herself and not priorly defending him, but it did feel nice to watch the argument between the two.</p><p>They kept at it for a while, Leliana trying her best to mediate between the two. Alistair was aware they were discussing his future, his trial and overall deciding him dead or alive, but he couldn’t find enough strength to care. As he looked upon the sky, the Breach getting slightly closer now as they progressed, he couldn’t imagine closing it. Small rifts spread across the mountain side were nothing compared to the monstrosity of the Breach. Even with Varric and Solas’ help, how were they supposed to win? </p><p>- We can stop this before it’s too late - Cassandra said and for a second Alistair feared she somehow read his thoughts, sensed his doubts. Her belief in their cause was reassuring, but even <em> her </em> confidence couldn’t carry both of them much longer.</p><p>- How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers - Roderick argued. Alistair already disliked him so much, he almost joined the argument to assure everyone they could easily reach the Breach, just to piss him off.</p><p>- We must get to the temple. And it’s the quickest route - the Seeker clearly wasn’t going to surrender, not to some cleric at least. Alistair could admire that.</p><p>- But not the safest - Leliana said, turning to him and her colleague - Our forces can charge as a distraction while you go through the mountains.</p><p>- We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It is too risky! - Cassandra argued, but then both women were interrupted by another burst of the Breach. Thunder-like sound was almost deafening up here and it was, of course, accompanied by Alistair’s yelp as the mark reflected the sky with its own jolt of green lightning. Varric kept him from falling to his knees, reminding him once again that dwarves were often even stronger and sturdier than they already looked.</p><p>Cassandra looked him in the eyes and Alistair wouldn’t mind to see some concern or empathy there. Instead, there was determination. </p><p>- How do you think we should proceed? - she asked and Alistair had to admit, he didn’t expect that. Even though he spent a lot of last ten years commanding Wardens on many different occasions, he still was much more used to following someone else’s orders. And he definitely did not mind that dynamic, especially in difficult and stressful <em> and important </em> situations like this one. The Seeker seemed quite serious with her question, though. And so did the others around, looking at him expectantly.</p><p>- The path I mean is mostly the same one we took ten years ago. it hadn’t changed much over the years - Leliana suggested, which didn’t help his confusion, as it was the first time she had referred to their past adventures since he arrived here. But he took a deep breath, trying to sort the thoughts running through his mind.</p><p>- I only vaguely remember it was quite tricky back then, and I suppose with extra demons thrown in it would only be more dangerous… - he started thinking aloud, which rarely leads anywhere. But the situation began to clear in his mind with each word leaving his mouth. For most of his time in Haven, the similarities between the chaos of the Blight and the current situation only confused and frightened him, but he decided to allow himself to remember it, so he wouldn’t make the same mistakes. <em> I had let others fight at Ostagar, and they were slaughtered. And then I let Morrigan take my responsibility, so I could live through Denerim… No more of that </em>, he decided.</p><p>- We charge - he spoke with the tone reserved for his Wardens - I probably won’t survive long enough for your trial. Whatever happens, happens now.</p><p>He wasn’t sure if Cassandra and Leliana looked more concerned or impressed. He didn’t take any joy nor pride in that this time, because he knew he had just declared himself ready for a final sacrifice. Although he realized he wasn’t afraid to die. Actually the perspective was almost… soothing. <em> It has to end some way. My death is not the worst scenario. </em> </p><p>- Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley - the Seeker, and Leliana looked at him one last time before leaving. <em> Everyone, </em>he repeated in his head. The weight of his decision caught up to him, but it was too late to turn back.</p><p>He walked side by side with Cassandra through the gate, Varric and Solas following them.</p><p>***</p><p>That path was definitely simpler than the one they had taken when searching for the Urn and they didn’t encounter almost any demons. However as they were getting closer to the temple, they could hear the fighting. Alistair could feel the mark buzzing again. </p><p>- Is there another rift up there? - he asked, pointing to the directions which the battle sounds were coming from.</p><p>- Most likely - Solas answered, looking at him curiously - Is the mark sending some sort of signal?</p><p>- Well it starts to hurt and feel generally <em> weird </em> whenever some Fade shit happens, I guess you can call it a signal - he said, but there was no more time for bickering and speculations. They could see the green glow of the rift and the sounds of their soldiers fighting demons were clear now.</p><p>- Quickly - he and Cassandra said at the same time as they rushed ahead. Their dynamic was slowly evolving, but he couldn’t put his finger on it yet. And he couldn’t find himself to care too much about it, as he was probably going to die very soon.</p><p>They reached the battlefield and there it was, a big-ass Fade Rift hovering above the soldiers and demons. This time it seemed even worse. Aside from Shades, Wraiths and Terror there was a Rage Demon, all in flames and roaring in… rage. </p><p>- Let’s get the fiery one, Seeker! Varric, the Wraiths! The ranged ones I mean! - he ordered and before he could tell Solas what to do, he already felt some sort of shielding spell on him. <em> I like him </em>, he decided. Cassandra and Varric obeyed too, the latter providing some smart-ass comment from the distance which Alistair didn’t quite catch. </p><p>So they charged at the Rage demon, who noticed them right away. That might have been Alistair’s fault, he was quite agitated after all. He had to admit, ever since he started his Berserk training with Oghren, slaying Rage demons became much more satisfying. Maybe it was serving as a kind of proof to him, that he could still control his fury even when facing something that was both feeding on it and causing it. Anyway, as he dodged the first fiery blast and then slashed the creature across its side, he felt only more determined to end its existence.</p><p>But unfortunately the demon seemed quite determined to destroy him as well. At first it worked to their advantage; as it focused its attacks on Alistair, Cassandra could easily attack him with both her blade and Templar tricks. But then a Shade almost sneaked up on her and she was now quite busy.</p><p>That’s when Solas proved himself once again. His strikes weren’t doing much against the demon, as he couldn’t exactly stab it without burning himself or even melting his weapon. And as he was slowly running out of options, he felt a chilly stream of air swirling down his arms, circling around his hands to finally magically sink into his blade and his shield. Familiar with the spell, he grinned as he delivered a powerful blow with his shield. Normally it would probably hurt him more than the demon, but now he heard its hisses at the cold-enchanted steel hitting its fiery flesh.</p><p>With his sword cutting through the creature's flesh like butter, he quickly managed to turn into a steaming pile of <em> something </em> he didn’t want to learn about. The fighting all around him was still intense, and though his first instinct was to throw himself onto the closest enemy, he managed to calm himself down. Just as Oghren taught him, he forced calming images into his mind. Leliana singing by the fire, Zevran preparing his massage oils (or his poisons, he could never tell), Wynne fixing his socks… Anything that helped him regain control.</p><p>He knew the fighting would continue forever as long as the rift was there, so he focused on it entirely. It was his perfect chance, with most of the Wraiths destroyed and no demons too close to him. He took a deep breath and reached his hand into the rift. Well, not exactly <em> into </em> it, as it was much too high. He pointed his hand in the general direction of the rift, trying to make that energy in his mark <em> shift </em> again. And it was working. </p><p>The mark buzzed in a familiar way, filling him with some sort of energy. The whole process was getting less painful (or he was just getting used to it), then green sparks came out of his palm, and then… He did it. He reached for the rift with the mark. It tried to oppose him, but he was stronger. He could feel the reality coming back to normal, as the Veil sealed again.</p><p>The strange energy left his body as he sank to his knees. For a moment everything was kinda blurry and when he felt Cassandra lifting him to his feet, the demons were gone. </p><p>- Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this - Solas was there too, looking not exactly <em> impressed </em>, but pleased anyhow.</p><p>- Let’s hope it works on the big one - Varric nodded at the Breach. Alistair slowly looked up as well and, as he suspected, the Breach got only more horrifying as they were closer.</p><p>- Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? - someone asked. The voice was familiar, but coming from memories much more deep into Alistair’s mind. He turned in its direction in disbelief, but there he was: Cullen Rutherford. He recognized him right away even without his curls and Templar armour, because that expression on his face, with or without stubble, hasn’t changed that much since the days they trained together at the Chantry.</p><p>- Cullen? - the name left his lips without him thinking. His old friend seemed surprised too, and when their eyes met, Alistair knew both of them were retracing the same paths in their heads. <em> Kirkwall, and before that… the Circle. Both times only for a few moments. For ten years </em>, Alistair recalled.</p><p>- Alistair. I… heard something about a Fereldan Warden, but I wasn’t sure… - the fact that Cullen wasn’t able to form coherent sentences right now did help him, he had to admit. But then the Templar cleared his throat, his eyes focused again - But there’s no time. Is it you who closed the rift, then? I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here - he said.</p><p>Alistair gulped, but managed not to start overthinking the whole plan again. <em> It’s too late, just keep going, </em> he reminded himself as he straightened up. </p><p>- I hope so too - he answered, and then looked at Cassandra, expecting her to take charge again. He didn’t feel that confident at the moment. It seemed like Cullen also decided she was the one to speak to.</p><p>- The way to the temple should be clear, Leliana will try to meet you there - he informed her.</p><p>- Then we’d best move quickly. Give us time, Commander - she said and gestured at the rest of them to follow her. <em> Commander?, </em>he thought and his and Cullen’s eyes met again.</p><p>- Maker watch over you. For all our sakes - he said before joining his soldiers.</p><p>- Maker watch over you, too, Cullen - Alistair murmured silently.</p><p>***</p><p>After a while they finally managed to reach the center of the explosion and meet up with Leliana. Everything was in ruins and he couldn’t believe the amount of burned bodies they saw on the way. It was also hard to imagine the halls he had walked with Luaine and the others during the Blight. Their search for the cure for Eamon seemed so trivial at the moment, it was like it happened in a whole different lifetime.</p><p>Seeing the Breach up close didn’t help. </p><p>- This is your chance to end this. Are you ready? - Cassandra asked him, interrupting his trail of thoughts. She, Solas and Varric were looking right at him, while Leliana was giving orders to her people, as they spreaded around the temple.</p><p>- How am I supposed to do that, exactly? It’s… far up there, you know? - he looked between Solas and Cassandra, hoping one of them would come up with something.</p><p>- This rift was the first one and it is the key - the elf said, pointing a big rift right at the centre of the previous chamber. Alistair was almost sure it was right where the Urn used to be placed. He didn’t like that idea - Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.</p><p>- Yeah, like it’s <em> ever </em> that simple - he complained to no one in particular, but took the lead down to the chamber. <em> Just keep going. Whatever happens, it ends here </em>, he told himself.</p><p>But staying focused was getting harder with each step. His mark was acting crazy, releasing random sparks almost the whole way down. He could feel the huge rift calling to him, to the mark… But there was something more here. </p><p>- Watch out, I think I sense Darkspawn - he said.</p><p>- Darkspawn? Here? I know of no entrance to the Deep Roads anywhere around Haven… - Cassandra didn’t seem to believe him, but they all threaded more carefully from there. But all the mixed signals were still quite distracting for Alistair, so he would step right into some glowing red shit it wasn’t for his loyal dwarf companion.</p><p>- Don’t touch it, Charmin - he warned him as he grabbed him by the elbow, and then looked at Cassandra - You know what it is, right, Seeker? - Varric seemed scared and that didn’t make Alistair feel any better.</p><p>- Red lyrium - she confirmed.</p><p>- <em> What </em>lyrium now? - Alistair asked, but wasn’t sure if he really wanted to now.</p><p><em> - It’s evil </em> - the dwarf almost hissed, but explained no further. Alistair decided to take his advice and avoid the stuff as much as he could.</p><p>Finally, they reached the ledge but just as he was about to make his way down, he heard… someone. A familiar voice, crying for help. </p><p>- Was it…? - Cassandra seemed shocked he could also hear the echoes of whispering among Leliana’s scouts all around them. <em> So they all heard it, that’s reassuring </em>, he thought. But it wasn’t, really.</p><p>His head felt heavy, but he forced himself to move on. All four of them managed to finally get down, some soldiers were following them but he wasn’t really paying attention. He slowly walked towards the rift, feeling the energy building up in his mark. He was ready for a strong burst of Fade magic any moment, but something else happened instead.</p><p>All of a sudden, the whole chamber divided in two. He could feel the burned ground beneath him and hear other people behind him, but at the same time there were the old walls of the temple, the stone floor and, at the centre… the Divine Justinia V.</p><p>She was raised in the air in a position that seemed real painful, and all around here were some other… beings. They were blurred, almost like covered in some smoke, but not like Shades or any sort of demons he had encountered. One of those presences seemed stronger, bigger. When a vile voice resonated throughout the place, Alistair knew it must’ve belonged to that thing.</p><p>
  <em> Prepare the sacrifice. </em>
</p><p>Everyone seemed confused and ready to strike, but there was no one to fight, not yet. Before he could consult the others on the strange situation or proceed towards the rift, there was another voice.</p><p>
  <em> What’s going on here!?  </em>
</p><p>- Oh… - that’s all Alistair could come up with as he heard his own voice. It sounded different than it did in his own head, but he could recognize it. He could also see himself entering the chamber. Kind of. He was wearing his warden armour, Duncan’s shield strapped to his back and Starfang sheathed at his side. His face not so handsome at the moment, with eyes and mouth wide open with fear at whatever he was seeing, probably the owner of the previous voice torturing the Divine. Divine, who was looking right at him… The <em>other</em> him, not the <em>him </em>him. Although, he wasn’t that sure anymore.</p><p>
  <em> Run while you can! Warn them! </em>
</p><p>As he heard her voice, he thought his head would explode. He felt like somewhere there were all of those precious memories which would explain all of this, but for some reason, they weren’t coming to him.</p><p>
  <em> We have an intruder. Kill him. Now! </em>
</p><p>And then, with a flash, the vision dissolved. The chamber looked perfectly ruined like before. He turned to his companions and almost expected Cassandra to chain him up for interrogation again. She looked confused and ready to destroy everything around in search for the answers she desperately needed. </p><p>- You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? - she asked her first set of questions rapidly, not giving him any time to think - Was this vision true? What are we seeing?</p><p>- I don’t remember - he said and must’ve looked so pathetic even the furious Seeker backed down in pity.</p><p>- Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place - Solas stated, providing enough explanation for now, although Alistair was quite sure the elf could choose any other phrasing to make that sentence less ominous. But something clicked in his mind, thanks to him.</p><p>- Yes, I saw something like this once, at an abandoned Warden fortress - he looked around, looking for Leliana out of the old habit. And there she was, not far behind them, definitely concerned. But she nodded in confirmation.</p><p>- Soldier’s Peak - she said dryly. Too late did he remember it was quite a sore subject for her, as the case of Avernus’ experiments was one of her biggest arguments with Amell. And he couldn’t really blame her.</p><p>Cassandra seemed to be satisfied, at least for now, as there was still the problem of the huge rift. </p><p>- This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily - Solas said and Alistair had to focus real hard to follow - I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely…</p><p>- Get more demons here, right, figures - Alistair said. He wanted to get this over with, as being so ner the Breach really unnerved him and the mark on his hand, it seemed - Let’s do it.</p><p>Solas nodded and everyone got in position, as Cassandra shouted more orders. Leliana, Varric and Solas spread further from the rift, allowing them better positions for ranged support. Cassandra and a few soldiers surrounded the rift with their weapons ready, and soon they were joined by Cullen with few more men.</p><p>It was time.</p><p>He reached his hand once again and the mark reacted quickly, almost automatically. A stream of green light connected him to the closed rift. It felt different than before. Closing rifts required much more strength, he had to force them shut. Opening turned out to be a lot easier. All it took was a touch for the rift to burst open, spewing a huge demon right onto the ground. Alistair paled as he recognized its form; a Pride demon roared as it rose on his monstrous legs. </p><p>- Now! - Cassandra ordered, and the assault began.</p><p>When he saw arrows raining upon the monster, he let his hopes up, which was obviously a mistake. None of the missiles sank into demon’s flesh, breaking on its scales and falling to the ground instead. Then the soldiers charged but none of their swords seemed to be doing any harm either. And as if it wasn’t bad enough, he could see some Shades and Wraiths forming around them. </p><p>- It’s drawing power from the rift! - Solas shouted, locking eyes with Alistair - Try to cut them apart, then maybe we can defeat it.</p><p>Seemed like a good enough plan for Alistair, considering he had none other. As the chaos revolved around him, Pride’s lightings flying everywhere and Shades swarming on their soldiers, he reached for the rift again. Solas was right, he could feel something different about this rift. As he focused on his mark, he could almost see the connection. He tried to “grab” it, but it evaded him, so instead he turned to the rip itself. He didn’t try to close it this time, nor open it further. He wanted to simply take it over, connect himself, his mark to it, so the demon couldn’t draw any more power.</p><p>He was no mage and his vague templar training didn’t provide any instructions about closing demonic portals. He acted mostly on feeling and random assumptions, which so far seemed to be the best tactic for dealing with the mark. It felt connected to his body somehow, so he tried to treat it like an integral part of himself.</p><p>And as the first arrow sank right into Pride demon’s neck, he figured it was working. </p><p>- You’re doing it, kid! - Varric sounded kinda excited. But it wasn’t the time to celebrate yet. He held his “grip” on the rift, but he could also see that some of the Shades were losing interest in other soldiers, turning on him instead.</p><p>- Guys! Some help over here! - he yelled, but almost everyone was already engaged in fights with the rest of the demons. But there he was, desperately holding onto a Fade Rift while two big Shades slouched towards him. He could see their claws shining in the green light as they were getting ready to strike, could almost hear them laughing in his head. He tried to retreat, but at the same time tried to focus on the rift. They had to defeat the Pride demon as soon as possible, otherwise the battle was only going to get harder.</p><p>One of the Shades tried its luck, sweeping his claws at the Warden. He managed to slice through the arm just in time, but the creature didn’t seem to care much. It hissed angrily but kept pressing on. Alistair knew he was going to be pushed to a corner soon and then he would be doomed. He tried to look around, to find anything, but it was hard while focusing both on staying alive, keeping the rift in check and not tripping over a rock or dead body or something.</p><p>So when he saw Cullen Rutherford charging at the She on his left with all of his might, he almost cried from happiness. Thankfully he didn’t, because the other Shade tried its luck with him again. This time he didn’t have to raise his sword to protect himself, as suddenly there was one blond Templar in front of him, shielding him from any dangers.</p><p>Cullen pushed the demon back with his shield and then followed with a stab. He could recognize standard Templar techniques in his moves, but he could also tell he was putting extra force behind his every blow. And Alistair had to admit, it looked quite magnificent.</p><p>He tried not to distract himself, however, and pressed on the rift again. It was tiring, but every scream of pain that came from the Pride demon motivated him to keep going..</p><p>- You alright? - Cullen asked. With both Shades gone, he turned to look at Alistair, looking genuinely worried.</p><p>- Yeah, thanks pal - he managed a smile. Maybe he would keep up the barter longer, but then he saw the Pride demon preparing another lightning spell. And he <em> knew </em> all of his ugly black eyes were looking right at him and Cullen - Watch out! - he yelled, but there was no time. He released the rift and leaped for the man in front of him, shoving both of them to the ground as a powerful lightning bolt passed right above them, raising all the hairs on his body. He quickly rolled over to the side, freeing Cullen, but it was too late.</p><p>Demon’s laughter echoed through the mountains as the power from the Fade fueled it again. It smashed its enormous fist on the ground, releasing a wave of lightning that hit few of their soldiers and pushed them away. Some of them flew a good distance before hitting the ground, either dead or unconscious. Arrows, bolts and spells were no longer doing anything to the monster as it kept laughing.</p><p>And if that wasn’t enough, more demons were coming their way. </p><p>- Cullen, cover me! - he shouted to the other man, who was already by his side. Alistair lost his shield somewhere, but that wasn’t important. He raised his hand again, forcing his will over the rift again. He wasn’t sure how he was even walking, every muscle in his body was screaming and his head threatened to burst when he tried to focus his eyes on the bright green light. But he felt the rift obeying him once again, finally.</p><p>- We have to get moving unless we want to get cornered - said Cullen, and Alistair nodded, gritting his teeth. They were moving at a terribly slow pace, for Alistair could not manage any other way. He was so occupied with managing the mark, he wasn’t really paying attention to what Cullen was doing. But he must’ve been doing good as they were both still alive.</p><p>- Stay here! - the other man told him and then ran towards the Pride demon. It seemed like the rest of the enemies were gone and everyone’s attention was on the main threat. Everyone, as in Cassandra, Cullen, Varric, Leliana and three others soldiers. The rest was either dead or too injured to keep fighting. Some archers were still aiding them from above, but judging by the burning marks all around, they weren’t spared by the lightning either.</p><p>It made Alistair angry. <em> It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I was the one to die. One Warden life for the sake of everyone else’s, </em> he thought as he moved towards the demon, his fury building up. The creature had just grabbed one of the soldiers in its claws and then threw it at the other. Alistair watched in horror as Cullen and Cassandra tried to stop the monster, as it aimed its fist at two entwined bodies on the ground. The Commander actually managed to block the powerful strike with his shield, but the sheer force of the demon almost smashed him whole. </p><p>As Cullen was trying to stand up, still shaking from the blow, the demon started to prepare another spell; lightning appeared in his claws again. Alistair was too far to do anything, he just pressed on the rift and prayed.</p><p>And someone must’ve been listening, because the lightning vanished as a stream of cleansing light rained onto the demon. Cassandra’s doing, Alistair could tell, because as soon as the light faded, she fell to her knees exhausted.</p><p>That was it. Solas was barely holding onto his staff, clearly exhausted, Leliana was picking up more arrows from a fallen scout’s body, only Varric kept shooting bolt after bolt with Bianca.</p><p>And the demon was definitely weakened. It had many wounds visible on its monstrous flesh and was unable to cast any sort of spells for now. They could probably defeat him if they got lucky, but before that would happen, more would die. It was clear as neither Cullen nor Cassandra were in any shape to fight.</p><p>It was up to Alistair to end it. So he stopped thinking and charged. He kept his grip on the rift until the last moment, and then sent the most powerful wave of energy he could. The rift burst opened, as he hoped, severing the link between it and the demon; he could sense it was gone. But it probably wasn’t for long, keeping a wide open Fade Rift behind him longer than necessary also would probably bite him in the ass, so he resorted to his final trick. His own Taint.</p><p>Most of the abilities he got from Avernus’ experiments were meant to kill Darkspawn. But he has also learned to tap into the tainted, dark power running in his veins and gather some of its power. It wasn’t pretty, and side-effects could be terrible. But sometimes there was no other option, like at the moment.</p><p>It felt like the Blight itself surged through his body. He picked up a knife he saw on the ground, kept the grip on his sword with his right hand and screamed, both in pain and in anger. It got him the demon's full attention, though, which was good. He didn’t want it distracted while he would make it suffer.</p><p>Before it could smash him with its fist or slash him to pieces with its claws, he jumped. He felt lighter than ever as he leaped into the air and sunk his blade right into the monstrous throat. For a second he stayed there, holding onto his sword, with his feet pressed against the demon's chest. He looked it into its multiple eyes, wanting to send a clear message.</p><p>
  <em> Die. </em>
</p><p>He pressed onto his hilt as he pushed himself up, only to sink the dagger right into the biggest one of those eyes. And then he kicked him as hard as he could, pushing himself away, as the monster fell back, screaming in agony.</p><p>Alistair fell onto his back, not feeling the pain right now but fully aware he would find a bruise later. The demon fell as well and was moving no more. <em> Finally </em> , he thought, as he pushed himself onto his knees. <em> But it's not over yet </em>.</p><p>He could hear people running towards him, but raised a hand to stop them. </p><p>- Don’t! - he yelled, looking around.</p><p>- But you’re bleeding all over, you’re going to… - Cassandra took a step forward and he took two more back in response.</p><p>- Don’t touch me! Watch out for the blood as well. It’s tainted - he warned, his chest heaving. He couldn’t calm his breath, instead he could feel the wetness on his neck and face, from the blood dripping from his ears, he assumed. And eyes, as he had to blink away the mixture of blood and tears.</p><p>Everyone was staring at him. He expected to see horror on their faces, but it wasn’t exactly the case. Cassandra and Varric had much more worried looks on them, Solas seemed disturbed but intrigued, Leliana had her mouth shut tight which meant she felt conflicted, but her eyes betrayed her, showing concern. If anyone seemed scared, it was Cullen, but it didn’t look like he was horrified by him or what he just did. More like he was scared <em> for </em>him. Yet not in a pitiful way. That was rare.  </p><p>- It’s not over yet - Alistair managed to speak without shouting, and he pointed at the rift, now even bigger and scarier. He could feel more demons waiting on the other side. He wasn’t sure what was stopping them.</p><p>Not waiting to find out, he walked towards it and reached his hand one last time. The mark and the rift connected immediately. Alistair had no more doubts; both were created with the same magic. He still didn’t know who placed them in Thedas any what for. What he knew was that he could use them. He could close the rift and end that nightmare once and for all.</p><p>So he pushed, letting the mark dry him of all that was left, which wasn’t much, to be honest. <em> A sorry excuse for a life, that’s all. Nothing to miss, </em> he thought as he sent the final burst on energy, forcing the rift shut.</p><p>And it closed, and as it happened reality seemed to push upon the Breach, cleansing the air from its monstrosity. The force went up and up until it reached the sky. Alistair smiled as he heard the explosion.</p><p>He did it.</p><p>And then he felt his knees giving up and everything went black before his body hit the ground.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alistair wakes up and everything's different.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>The last hurlock fell to its knees, spitting out its tainted blood and then went still. Alistair was breathing heavily, his own blood hot and almost boiling in his veins, as he pulled Starfang out of Darkspawn’s body, letting it roll onto the ground. It wasn’t enough for the Warden, though. He wanted to stamp on the monster’s skull, crush every single bone in its disgusting body and cut the rest to pieces so small there would be no sign of its flesh except for the blood stains and the stench. Yes, unfortunately the stench was inescapable in these parts of the Deep Roads. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- You alright there, Alistair?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And then there was a hand, touching his arm gently. Just enough to bring him back. He turned around to Sigrun smiling at him. He closed his eyes, still shaking a bit, the fight not ready to leave his body just yet. She squeezed his hand. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Sig - he opened his eyes, now ready to return the smile. She always knew how to calm him down.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- Need some first-rate magical patching up, lovebirds?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You can always count on a healer to break a tender moment. Anders stood before them with his magical light hovering right above his head, as he proceeded with his usual brief inspection. Sigrun let go of his hand.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- Some scratches, but nothing the power of love cannot heal! I will leave you to it then - he announced and Alistair could almost hear Sigrun’s eyes rolling. While Anders left to check on Oghren, Alistair looked around. Nathaniel was collecting his arrows, yanking them from darkspawn throats, bellies, heads. The archer paid it no mind, but Alistair felt it every single time, even in the dark corridor he could see all of those dead monstrous eyes, all of them still wide open. He could feel even more stench sinking into the air.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Velanna walked past him, paying him no attention. That wouldn’t be anything unusual back in the day, when she was still a fresh Warden, suspicious of pretty much everyone, maybe except for Luaine. But with time she grew more familiar with her new brothers and sisters and would usually glare at him grumpily at least. Sometimes even nod almost politely if she was in a good mood.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So his gaze followed her as she kept walking slowly down the corridor, where she joined Sigrun and Luaine. All three of them seemed to look in the same direction, even further into the tunnel. All he could see there was more darkness. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- Girl talk, eh? - Nathaniel smirked and pointed one of his retrieved arrows at their sisters. Alistair couldn’t hear any of them speaking. The arrowhead was dripping with blood.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oghren looked very uncomfortable as Justice tried to bandage his shoulder with his undead hands, always rotting but never truly falling apart. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- Caridin’s steel ballsack, even Morrigan had warmer hands than you! - the dwarf shouted, trying to get away. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- Well, bathing in newborn’s blood works miracles for pleasant body heat... - Anders answered, cheerful, tied the bandage and helped put the heavy pauldron back into its place on Oghren’s shoulder, his fingers quick and skilled as always. Then he looked at Alistair, still smiling - Doesn’t it, Alistair?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oghren laughed hard, his echoes shaking the stone columns until finally dying far down the corridor… or maybe not dying. Sinking into a different sound. A song.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Everything turned even darker, their torches long gone. He could barely see his own feet as he walked towards Amell. The only light came from the cold gleam of Anders’ eyes, their gaze both strange and familiar. He stood still as Alistair, Oghren and Nathaniel joined the other three Wardens.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He wanted to call for Luaine, still with her back to Alistair, but no sound could leave his throat. He couldn’t feel himself breathing either. Although he didn’t need to; the faint melody of the song far away could easily replace the beating of his heart. He wanted to follow the sound into the darkness.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But he couldn’t leave his fellow Wardens again. He reached his arm, grabbed their commander shoulder and it felt colder than ever. All three women turned around, their faces pale against dark veins pumping with the Blight. Their eyes not empty, just drained of life, filled with the song instead. Sigrun’s casteless mark stood out even more.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- It’s not yours - Luaine spoke, her lips barely moving. Her body shimmered with green light… No, it was his hand on her shoulder. The song felt more distant now. He tried to hold onto it, he didn’t want the silence back.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>- Give it back - she insisted. The light grew even stronger and warmer. The sound barely noticeable now; he started panicking.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And then the mark exploded.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>***</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t want to open his eyes. For a moment, he was laying there in the nothingness, his body not fully conscious yet. He could appreciate that as he had a feeling that consciousness wouldn’t be very pleasant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However he finally came to his senses and winced. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit, my back… </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought when the pain catched up with him. He opened his eyes and tried to move with a quiet groan; then he found himself in Flemeth’s old hut with Morrigan by the fireplace and he screamed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> to scream. Not willingly of course, but anyway what left his sore throat was more of a grunt, although still loud enough to startle the witch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or actually an elven girl, as it turned out. She turned around, dropping the firewood as she stared at him, eyes and mouth wide open in shock. And clearly they weren’t in the Witch of the Wilds’ lair either. Yes, it appeared to be a small wooden shack filled with potions, plants and all sorts of alchemy reagents, but it felt completely different than the Korcari Wilds, much less apostate-y, for example. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- I didn’t know you were awake, my lord, I swear! - the girl almost begged and Alistair winced again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good job Alistair, scare a random elf first thing in the morning! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- It’s alright, please - he said, slowly managing to sit on the bed - And I am no lord, please, my name is Alistair, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Warden</span>
  </em>
  <span> Alistair if you insist… - he added. He felt a bit sore all over, especially his back. He also felt a bit too warm, but in a cosy way. He looked around, trying to gather his surroundings once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- You’re in Haven, my lo-, umm, Warden - the girl prompted, his confusion clearly visible. Now instead of gaping she was clearly trying to avoid looking at him, which made him only a little less uncomfortable. But then he saw how red her face was and realized he was sitting there butt naked, a woolen blanket barely covering him. So he started blushing too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would probably manage to make the situation even more awkward if he didn’t finally realize what she had just said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Haven… Oh shit!</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>- The Breach! Is it… Is e-everyone alright? - he asked. He wanted to stand up and run outside to check on the sky itself, but quickly reminded himself of his current state. And besides that, sudden movements didn’t speak to his body at the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- The Breach is still in the sky, but you saved us! It’s stopped growing. That’s what everyone’s been saying for the last three days - she finally managed to look somewhere near his face, but then he could see some sort of realization hitting her - Lady Cassandra! She wanted to be told if you were awakened, at once!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh right, Cassandra</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he recalled. He was still a prisoner… Although there were no swords aimed at his throat, no bars in the windows; instead a warm bed and a small platter of food right beside it. Right next to a jug of water, which caught his attention. He grabbed it quickly and  chugged half of it almost immediately. He tried not to moan in relief as the water cooled his strained throat. Some of it spilled though and felt even colder against his hot skin, which reminded him...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Before you go, could you possibly tell me where are my clothes? I would really prefer not to face Lady Cassandra like this… - he said, while the girl was slowly backing away towards the door. She nodded and pointed to a chest on his right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- They took your armor to the blacksmith to fix it, but there’s some clothes for you there - she said quickly, now almost at the door - At once, she said! - she added, either to remind herself of what she was supposed to do or to apologize to him. And then she ran outside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A bit of cold air managed to creep inside before the doors closed behind her, fully waking Alistair up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So… I might get my armour back? That’s nice. Maybe they want me to look proper for my trial. More of a show if I’m dressed all pretty with griffon on my chest.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried not to get his hopes up, as usual. Instead he tried to gather his thoughts, which usually held his mood from improving too much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>First, the mark…</span>
  </em>
  <span> His hand was no longer in such pain, so maybe Solas was right about the connection. The Breach was supposed to be closed and the mark also seemed to stop acting up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That could potentially be something to look forward to</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought but chided himself. In his situation any hope could be too risky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He focused on the rest of his body. He was slowly remembering the fight at the temple, falling on his back. He winced at the memory. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She said I was out for three days?</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he recalled. He couldn’t exactly remember anything specific, but there were some glimpses, healing incantations, ointments… Someone took care of him in the meantime.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His unusual body heat was a typical result of using the powers of Blight. After such a display of it he would expect more side effects; soreness and some sweat he could deal with easily. Dreams, though, were something different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ever since the weird, early Calling started, he had a lot of dreams about Darkspawn, just like during the Blight. Using those special Warden skills also tended to make it worse. But this time it was something </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Most of the details were already slipping his mind; the song was the first thing to vanish. He couldn’t hear it at all and had a feeling the mark on his hand had something to do with it. But even with the mark somehow blocking out the Calling, something inside him still craved for it,  his Taint was seeking the song but could find nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dream definitely wasn’t just a reminder of anything that had happened in the past. Ever since ending the Blight, he and Luaine were always making sure to not bring all of the Wardens of Ferelden on any mission, especially not into the Deep Roads. Ferelden could not lose all of its guardians again. So this dream scenario was already weird and unrealistic, which helped Alistair to somehow distance himself from it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He also knew it couldn’t be prophetic (not that he would expect himself to have prophetic dreams of any sort). Anders and Justice were gone; whatever could possibly remain of any of them somewhere in the world, they would never return to the Wardens, he was sure of it. And he and Sigrun… They were on perfectly good terms with each other, they didn’t even really break-up, but their relationship </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> end at some point as they got a bit distant. Alistair wouldn’t expect them to get that close again; he didn’t really feel the need to have that anymore, despite he was still quite fond of the Legionnaire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only part that felt kind of ominous and possibly prophetic was the sight of her, Velanna and Luaine staring into the darkness. He knew Sigrun even before the Calling sometimes just felt the need to venture into the Deep Roads and never come back. Velanna wanted to look for her sister and the Architect, despite the danger. And Luaine… she craved knowledge, she wanted to be ready for any kind of Darkspawn, for any Archdemon and when she wanted something nothing could stop her. And Alistair was just as afraid it would kill her one day as he was during the Blight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there were also those words from the dream. They felt important, he didn’t want them to fade from his memory. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s not yours. Give it back”... Did it mean the song? It is mine, it awaits me just as any other Grey Warden. Or does it? The mark definitely fucks with it, stops it… </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wasn’t sure what to think of any of this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hunger saved him from any more headaches. His stomach growled as the smell of bread and butter </span>
  <em>
    <span>and cheese</span>
  </em>
  <span> was too much to bear. He quickly grabbed the platter and ate on the bed, naked, with his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure how long it took (probably like half a minute) before all that was left of his breakfast were some crumbs on his thighs and the blanket. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Time to face a trial. Or a mob. Or Cassandra</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought, his stomach satisfied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He got up and tried to stretch a little and winced again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, there’s definitely a bruise</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought rubbing his lower back. He walked to the fireplace, jug with the rest of the water in his hands. Normally he wouldn’t be that comfortable with walking around naked, especially when guards could swoop down on him any moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Might at least give them something to look at when they chain me up</span>
  </em>
  <span> a little voice inside him said, sounding suspiciously like Zevran’s. He always envied his friend for his confidence; the ex-Crow knew how to carry himself with ease in any situation. He tried to teach Alistair his “ways”, but he didn’t really catch on. He got a tattoo, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alistair smiled to himself and traced the lines on his chest. He saw a small mirror on a shelf to his right and </span>
  <em>
    <span>yep, here it is. Furry little birdie-thing, as Oghren called it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Personally, he loved how Zevran depicted the griffon: less noble and static, more wild, vivid and truly beautiful; less like a crest, more like an actual painting. And also looking at it brought memories of how it was made. He made the decision sober, but then got a little drunk for courage and pain-resistance, then there were the needles, the paint, some blood as well, but also scented oils, a massage and a whole lot of touching beside the massage. As he stood by the fire, warm, he could almost feel Zevran’s breath on his skin and hear his whispers in his ear…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And suddenly he really preferred not to be found naked by the guards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly emptied the jug, trying not to choke (his throat still felt a bit dry) and walked to the chest where some new clothes were supposed to be. And indeed there were. Simple shirt, breeches. He was relieved to see his own leather boots beside the chest and even more so when he found them cleaned and dried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After he dressed up, he hesitated for a moment. He could hear people outside and suspected there were guards just behind the door, but no one had specifically told him to stay put and wait for the Seeker to come to him. And as much as he tried to suppress his hopes, his new accommodations definitely made him feel better and not so much a prisoner. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I could just take a look, say I wanted to see the Breach for myself, to make sure? I did help, they shouldn’t mind, right?, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. And it would be an honest excuse, he wanted to have a look. He knew he had almost died trying to get rid of the thing; he had failed if the elf was telling the truth, but not completely. The Breach was supposed to be under control. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My control</span>
  </em>
  <span>, something whispered deep inside him, but he forced that thought deep down. He didn’t want that kind of responsibility. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If I die… Would that make the Breach open again?</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he wondered. He wasn’t sure. It didn’t feel like his mark was keeping it shut. It closed it, that he was certain of, but he was no mage and no scholar. They didn’t teach him about demonic portals and how to control them back at the chantry. He had no idea how exactly any of this worked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I hope Solas is still around somewhere…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He decided. He needed to go outside.</span>
</p>
<p><span>He felt weird leaving the hut without his armor, or shield, or anything he owned. He still wondered what had happened to Starfang and old Duncan’s shield; Alistair had them with him when he first arrived at Haven and wasn’t surprised no one handed them back to him back in his jail cell. </span><em><span>Maybe the blacksmith who’s fixing my armor has them?</span></em> <em><span>Maybe I can ask Leliana to return them to Soldier’s Peak before the execution.</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>So there it was. He was as ready to leave as he would ever be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The constant murmuring he could hear before stopped for a second, so he assumed whoever was outside noticed him. Although he wasn’t sure, as the sunlight blinded him a bit at first. Then, as curious as he was, he forced his eyes to seek the sky before anything else around. He needed to see if the threat was dealt with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It looks… weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>, was his first thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weird, scary, but less than before. When reduced to a green scar instead of a gaping hole, the Breach was still impressive and threatening, but it also allowed to see more details. And well, it was mysterious, it was unnatural, it shouldn’t be there at all, right on the path of the slowly raising morning sun; still, there was some beauty in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However he had no time to dwell on that as he felt everyone’s stares on him, so he finally looked down and… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, so this is the part when I realize I have no breeches and everyone laughs at me and then I finally wake up?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But no, his breeches were right where he left them, which was </span>
  <em>
    <span>on</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. And no one was laughing either, instead two guards who were standing just outside the hut saluted him, right arms across their chests and all that. And the crowd behind them had no torches or pitchforks; he noticed some fingers pointing at him, some whispers being exchanged but apart from that, as far as crowds went, that one seemed quite friendly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment he wanted to go right back inside and wait, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>hide</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be more specific, but he managed to straighten himself a bit and take a few more steps. Guards seemed to be in no hurry to stop him, instead both them and the crowd moved aside to clear a path for him; a way up, to the chantry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took another deep breath and kept walking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- That’s him. That’s the Herald of Andraste! - someone from the crowd said. Alistair forced himself to keep moving. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A what now?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- They said when he came out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over him - the voice continued, and Alitair fought very hard against his body so it wouldn’t start shaking. Not that he cared for the impression he would make on the crowd; he was just aware that if he wouldn\t keep control over his reactions, he would end up curled up in a ball on the ground, probably crying. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I was in the Fade? And the woman I saw… COuld that really be…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t want to let that slip into his mind. He didn’t want to hear anyone say it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No no no, that’s not real. I mean, yeah, sure, I saw Her ashes with my own eyes, I saw them healing Eamon but that’s it! She’s dead! Or she’s by the Maker’s side or whatever, she’s not just appearing to save sorry bastards!</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought. That what the chantry taught him. Even the nicest of the reverend mothers would never really make him believe Andraste would take pity on him, not in any </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> way. She would listen to his prayers and if he would be a good boy, maybe smile upon him from above, </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just maybe, bring him some luck, but more in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally-manage-to-fail-at-daily-tasks </span>
  </em>
  <span>luck than </span>
  <em>
    <span>any-chance-at-happy-life</span>
  </em>
  <span> luck. Andraste woudl never just pop up and save him from any sort of danger, there was no doubt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But apparently those people around him didn’t know that, because as he moved through the crowd, there were only more of those whispers. He didn’t catch all of it, actually he tried very hard not to hear the most, he couldn’t help catching some words that were the most repeated, though. There were “Herald” and “Andraste”, sometimes with a little “of” right in the middle. Something in that title alarmed him; maybe it was that Alistair had never eally ban a fan of titles before. “The Bastard Prince”, “the Last Theirin” or even… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- The Hero of Ferelden! - someone almost shouted and Alistair winced. He really hoped </span>
  <em>
    <span>that one</span>
  </em>
  <span> wouldn’t come up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Wasn’t the Hero a woman? - another person asked, quietly. He would maybe appreciate the stranger’s knowledge (or just basic awareness of an event that nearly destroyed the land they lived on just ten years prior) on another occasion, but at the moment he really hoped for the whole thing to go unnoticed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Yeah, right! He’s the other Warden, the helper! - yet another pilgrim added and Alistair truly hoped his face didn’t turn as red as he felt it did. He truly prefered Luaine to be the famous Hero and he believed that if anyone deserved that title, it was her. But being called a “helper” felt like a jab, he had to admit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wished Luaine was here. Last time he had to face an amused crowd, they were together. They had walked out of the Denerim palace, met by hundreds of people who they had saved. Amell wasn’t comfortable either, being raised in a Circle and not used to crowds, especially friendly kinds. But she had her heroic presence which Alistair had always admired; she knew people needed to see their savior. She knew Wardens needed to make a good example, before the people of Ferelden turned on them again. But it was all a facade; the Archdemon had been slain, but a risk was taken. He remembered watching his fellow Warden put on a show and wondering, </span>
  <em>
    <span>did she forget what we’ve done?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They played with unknown forces they had no control over and made the immediate threat go away; the similarities to his current situation seemed so clear to him at the moment, he was prepared for Morrigan to appear with her dark magic demon-spawn at her side, ready to cut his arm off and use to rule over the world or whatever she and Flemeth wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You will not hate this quite as much as you believe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook his head and moved on, trying to get away from the crowd as fast as he could without actually running. He didn’t want to spend possibly his last days thinking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>night. But he couldn’t deny the awful feeling that all of this was just some sort of pay back, the fate punishing him for his choice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe Andraste actually did come for me. To make sure I pay for everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Passing by some more guards, pilgrims or even chantry sisters, all looking at him, sometimes bowing or saluting, Alistair had finally found himself before the chantry doors. No one seemed too eager to behead him or even tie him up. He took that as an invite and pushed them open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A chill went up his spine when he entered the building. Despite the brief moment when he passed through the hall led as a prisoner by Cassandra, the last time he was there was ten years before. They came to Haven seeking brother Genitivi, found crazy cultists instead. He could almost see their revered </span>
  <em>
    <span>father</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the end of the hall, preaching about the reborn Andraste. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eirik was his name? Wonder what would he think of a bunch of pilgrims calling some random bastard a “Herald of Andraste” in his old hometown?</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he wondered, smirking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He also wondered what had happened to the Urn. Genitivi had spread the word about the relic and pilgrimages started just after the Blight ended, but then it mysteriously disappeared. Alistair didn’t usually pay too much attention to whatever was happening at the Chantry and wasn’t even that religious to be honest, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>saw</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Urn and how it cured Eamon. He saw the Guardian and went through the Gauntlet with Luaine, Wynne and Leliana. He had no idea if the Guardian had moved the relic to protect it, or if it was the Chantry who decided to keep it hidden or whatever; but he knew it was real. Andraste had died, burned to ashes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ashes with enough power to heal a poisoned noble. Eamon wasn’t exactly a saint, so if she somehow saved him, maybe she really did the same with me?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He approached the door at the end of the hall. Two guards saluted him and opened it, letting him in. He gulped, catching a glimpse of Leliana inside, but walked in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No point in delaying it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he tried to convince himself to stay calm. But there was no need: as soon as he saw chancellor Roderick, he became too irritated to care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Chain him. I want him prepared for travel to the capital for trial - he announced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Well hello to you too, how did you sleep? - AListair murmured and was ignored, of course. Leliana glanced at him for a second, though, but he couldn’t read her still. Although she seemed a little bit more at ease, maybe because currently there was no huge demonic portal above their heads.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Disregard that, and leave us - Cassandra ordered the guards instead and they obeyed. He couldn’t help but smirk a little when he saw Roderick’s expression - The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it - the Seeker continued, walking towards the cleric, becoming more threatening with every step. Alistair would otherwise enjoy the show if he didn’t realize what she meant. He was still a suspect, but a useful one, it seemed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leliana was looking at him, he could feel it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is she expecting something? What, am I supposed to prove my intentions right now? Blast the Breach out of the sky? Or maybe just do a flip, will that be enough?</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought, still not raising his gaze to meet hers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Yeah, sorry about that, next time I’ll put some more muscle into sealing huge-ass magical doorways to hell, allright? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nearly-fucking-dying</span>
  </em>
  <span> seemed to work, maybe if I focus on that more we can get rid of the thing next time! - he said, overly cheerful and visibly annoyed. At least he hoped it was visible, he wasn’t sure how to explain that further.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Yet you did survive. A convenient result, insofar as you’re concerned - Roderick clearly wasn’t convinced. Judging by Cassandra’s look, she also wasn’t exactly pleased with Alistair's comment. Not that it was anywhere near his intentions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Have a care, Chancellor. The Breach is not the only threat we face - the Seeker said before he managed to prepare another witty remark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect - Leliana decided to join in. Her gaze was still intense, but now focused on Roderick instead of him. He felt almost sorry for the guy, cornered by two scary women in a confined space. Almost - Perhaps they died with the others… Or have allies who yet live.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- I am a suspect? - either Roderick was actually surprised or he was just playing his act, Alistair couldn’t tell. </span>
  <em>
    <span>he has to be aware he looks suspicious as fuck with that ugly rat face, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, even more spiteful when the Chancellor pointed his fingers at him again - I am, but not him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- I heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to him for help - Cassandra came to his defence, again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So am I a suspect or no?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was getting tired of all this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- So his survival, that thing on his hand, all a coincidence? - Roderick had a fair point, he had to give him that. However he could not give any points to Cassandra for what she said after.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Providence. The Maker sent him to us in our darkest hour.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sounded so confident, as if anything in that sentence made sense. He could deal with pilgrims spreading rumours about Andraste and all that shit, but he couldn’t wrap his head around Right Hand of the Divine, Cassandra Penthagast, declaring him a sign from the Maker. Even Leliana wasn’t that crazy, at least he hoped so. He still didn’t feel like meeting her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Yeah, about that… I think I prefer “the coincidence” theory this fellow here suggested… - he finally said, as the Seeker clearly awaited his reaction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Perhaps I’m wrong. I Will not, however, pretend you were not exactly what needed when we needed it - she said, her confidence still scaring him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- The Breach remains and the mark is still our only hope of closing it - Leliana elaborated. Alistair wasn’t sure, but he assumed she had gave up on drilling her gaze into him. He would check on that just yet, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- That is not for you to decide! - Roderick still argued and Alistair held up a laugh, as he tried to imagine the cleric trying to stop either Cassandra or Leliana from anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cassandra, however, apparently decided to put an end to Chancellor’s attempts. She brought out a huge book with a Chantry emblem on the cover and set it on the table with a loud thump. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- You know what it is, Chancellor - she said. Although Alistair had no idea; he just hoped it wasn’t just the Chant. If Cassandra started singing some canticle explaining her decisions, Alistair would probably snap - A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act - she explained anyway. He would be grateful if not for the dreadful feeling he had. He knew the Seeker was about to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, make some sort of statement that Alistair was both scared and excited to hear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn. We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval - as she spoke, she took one more step with each statement, pushing Roderick towards the exit with her presence. She was scary, but also… Alistair wanted to believe her. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> believe her, to some extent. Her determination filled the room and for a moment Alistair could feel the purpose</span>
  <em>
    <span>, their</span>
  </em>
  <span> purpose. World needed to be fixed, order and peace restored, everything set back to normal. He had to help.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And the Inquisition…</span>
  </em>
  <span> He knew the stories, he grew up at the chantry. He knew the original Templars came from the Inquisition, which made him uneasy. He had already escaped joining the Templars once, he managed to clear the lyrium out of his body after the Blight, he wasn’t very keen on trying any of that again. But it didn’t seem like Cassandra was about to inject lyrium into anyone in the near future.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the Chancellor left, there were only the three of them in the room, the tension still high, however. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- This is the Divine’s directive: rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos - Leliana said, looking at him again. This time he met her eyes; it felt different. She didn’t feel as cold as before. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She wants something. No… She has an offer. An offer, not an order. It still might be some game, but…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support - she continued and Alistair managed a weak smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Well, I’m used to “no numbers and no Chantry support situation”. And when it comes to leaders, you two seem to be doing fine so far - he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cassandra lit up at his words. For a second he thought she appreciated the compliment more than he anticipated, but he figured something else he said catched her attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- You intend to stay at our side and help, then? - she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Of course I do. I thought that was obvious - he answered before realizing it was not, in fact, obvious. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, I can’t really leave, even if they’re not forcing me to stay. I can’t return to Amaranthine, I need to find out whatever’s happening to the Wardens. I know it has to be connected… And also this Roderick fellow probably will sent some assassins after me if I leave. Or pretty much anyone else at this point</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And, most importantly, there is the Breach. I can’t just… leave it be. Someone or something created it and killed a lot of people doing so. Whatever it was, it may try that again. If I can stop it… I have to try</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he decided. He took a deep breath and raised his head. First he looked at Leliana, then he focused on Cassandra. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Yes, I will help however I can. I believe what you’ve said, about restoring the order, finding those guilty… I want to help - he declared. Cassandra looked him in the eye for a second, then nodded and raised her hand. He took it, sealing whatever they were agreeing on. A deal? A promise, a pact?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just hoped it would work out in the end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alistair gladly went outside as Leliana and Cassandra busied themselves with many duties that apparently came with running a religious military organization (</span>
  <em>
    <span>who would’ve thought?</span>
  </em>
  <span>) and wondered what to do with himself next. He was supposed to return to the chantry later for a “Council Meeting”, whatever that meant, but he had time at least until the late afternoon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Messengers, soldiers and priests were hurrying past him both ways so he decided to stay clear of the chantry for a moment; he didn’t really feel like sleeping, so he didn’t fancy going back to bed. He considered going for the tavern he saw on the way, but keeping in mind how everyone here reacted to him, that didn’t appeal to him either. And so he kept wandering around the village. He found it curious how much it’d changed, compared to when he and Luaine pretty much raided Haven looking for Genitivi. Not that he felt particularly bad for crazy cultists who had lived here before… but either way it wasn’t a pleasant memory. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- You holding up all right there, Charming? - a familiar voice spoke right next to him, startling him a bit. Alistair looked down to meet Varric, who was crouching by the small fire. He felt so relieved to see the dwarf, he almost pulled him into a hug; he was also a bit ashamed that he hadn’t thought about looking for him sooner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Well, you know, it could be worse. There’s no Blight, no Qunari Invasion, no crazy swamp hags, no Crows… - he forced a small smile - Oh, wait, you’re not supposed to talk about Crows, right? Zev used to say talking about them summons them right behind your back - he added. He tried hard not to take a quick look behind him; he wasn’t exactly superstitious and definitely not when it came to Antivan proverbs, but he had far too many dealings with Crows in his life and had already learned one could never be too cautious about them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Maybe, but with all that bullshit I think even they will be a little too confused for a while before they track you down again - Varric said, looking at him curiously - And speaking of bullshit and how it clearly concentrates around you at the moment… You sure you’re fine? I know you’ve been many things in your life, but switching from the most wanted criminal in this part of Thedas to </span>
  <em>
    <span>the Herald of Andraste</span>
  </em>
  <span> seems like a lot, even for you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alistair sighed and sat by the fire, the dwarf joining him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Yeah, it’s a mess, isn’t it? I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>I guess </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m glad not to be executed, but I’m not so sure if that’s any better than what’s happening right now. I never had any luck with the chantry, to be honest most revered mothers hated me when I was growing up, but becoming a heretic and self-proclaimed Maker’s harbinger wasn’t really my goal, you know? I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>wouldn’t call it “self-proclaimed”, I didn’t have much to say in that case, but I doubt Val Royeaux will see it that way - he was speaking whatever came on his tongue, too agitated to stop himself now. But Varric didn’t seem to mind. Alistair let out another long sigh - I just don’t know what’s happening anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Makes the two of us - his friend patted him on the back. He appreciated it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- I’m really glad to see you here, Varric, not gonna lie, but… </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you here, exactly? Didn’t Cassandra say you were free to go? - he asked. The dwarf shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- You know me, Charming, couldn’t miss a chance at catching some inspiration for another tale… - he started, but Alistair gave him a look. The dwarf smirked, shaking his head, then nodded at the Breach and the mountain pass leading to the Temple - Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now there’s a hole in the sky. Even I can’t walk away and just leave that to sort itself out - he said, then looked at Alistair, expectantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- What?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- You know “what”. Cassandra is pretty rough, but I wouldn’t expect her to force you to stay here after what you’ve done. You are staying here willingly, at least to some extent… So why are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> here, Charming? I’ve written enough tragedies and you’ve lived through quite a lot of them yourself, we both can guess how all of this is going to end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn that dwarf. Must all of them be so depressing? I think Sandal was the only cheerful one I’ve met and he was, well, Sandal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought, eyes fixed on the fire. It was small, barely sustaining in the chilly wind, and Alistair was getting a bit cold. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- I guess you’ve said it yourself. People died. A hole in the sky. But also… - he looked around them. Some people were staring at them from a distance, but no one seemed to be eavesdropping. However he couldn’t be sure and he didn’t feel like discussing the possibility of another Blight coming and Wardens going a bit mad everywhere out in the open. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Although maybe people would stop staring and forget about me if they were panicking over another catalysm coming?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Varric seemed to notice his discomfort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Up for a little stroll through the surroundings? Might help you clear your head - he suggested, patting Alistair on the back again and standing up. The Warden did the same and instantly shivered as the chill hit him again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- But maybe let’s find you something to protect your royal physique from the cold. Divine messenger or not, if you catch a cold here, you’re gonna be miserable for at least a week - he added, smirking. Alistair returned the smile. Varric was one of the few people who knew the exact amount of sarcasm Alistair needed when he was offered help. He was really glad to have him along.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- Lead the way, then. I trust your fashion sense will guide us towards a garment worthy of a royal bastard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- You can count on me. I'm not letting you borrow my coat, though.<br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>Damn.</em>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This one a bit shorter than the prologue. Prolly will try to keep future chapters at similar length.</p>
<p>Feel free to leavy comments down below, I really appreciate any sort of feedback ((:</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alistair meets people and runs errands.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I've realized I'm not sure where the "Prince Charming" nickname for Alistair came from. I thought it was canon, but I'm no longer sure. I think I can recall Varric calling him that name in DAI if Alistair appears as a Warden, but I might have made that up, or more likely, read that in some other cullistair fic once and assumed it was canon. If that's the case, it was prollly one of Ginipig's (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginipig/pseuds/Ginipig)<br/>if you're not familiar with their work yet, make sure to check it out</p><p>and if perhaps some of you know if "Prince Charming" nickname is canon or not, please let me know</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alistair didn’t cry when he got his armor back. Not at all. He turned his back to Harrit and Varric only to make sure all the straps and plates were correctly adjusted after repairs, and if it allowed him to discreetly wipe any theoretical tears, it would be just a coincidence. </p><p>- Your Warden equipment is a little fancier than what we usually deal with here, but I assure you, my lord, I have fixed all the splints and replaced some of the leather pieces that got teared - the blacksmith said and he trusted him. The armor felt right, the way it always did. Not too heavy, so he had enough mobility, but not too light, so he knew it provided him the protection he needed if his shield would fail him. <em> Duncan’s shield… </em></p><p>- No, it’s perfect, thank you Harrit - he said, turning to face the man - By the way, maybe you happen to know what had come of the rest of my things? Before all of <em> this </em>happened... - he pointed at the scar in the sky - ...I had my sword with me, and my shield. It had a Warden crest on it, like this - he moved his hand to touch the chest piece instinctively, but… it wasn’t there. </p><p>- Oh, right, here it is - Harrit hurried to one of his work tables and brought the crest - I had to remove it to fix the mail and sister Leliana suggested to leave it that way, to avoid, um…</p><p>Alistair gulped, but nodded slowly. <em> Of course. So I’m in hiding, just like the old times</em>, he thought. He looked down to inspect the armor again. He noticed the blue stripes had faded into gray too; before, he had assumed it was just due to the washing, thankfully someone made sure to get rid of all the tainted blood. However now he suspected it was no coincidence. Without the colour and the crest, it looked like a pretty much standard piece of splintmail. It didn’t feel so <em> right </em> now. </p><p>- It still belongs to you, my lord, of course. I got it clean and polished, but… - Harrit tried to explain as he handed him the small plate. Alistair traced the griffon with his fingers. It looked different than the one on his skin, more regal, <em> glorious </em> according to some.</p><p>- It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Sister Leliana is probably right. And please, call me Alistair, Warden Alistair if you… - he started, almost automatically, then stopped himself. The plate felt cold in his hands now, even with the gloves on - Or just Alistair, I guess. Even easier that way, you know? - he smiled.</p><p>- Yeah, much shorter, makes it easier to chat on the battlefield - Varric added. If he wasn’t glad for the banter to break the uncomfortable moment, he would roll his eyes. Dwarf’s habit of giving nicknames to everyone was known to Alistair all too well. He had to admit though, Varric was much more creative than Shale. Even “Prince Charming” sounded better than “It” or “the Whiny One”.</p><p>- Oh sure, if I had to yell “deshyr Varric of House Tethras, there's someone with a knife behind you!” every time, it would be just so exhausting. And he would get stabbed before I finished the sentence!</p><p>- Not a chance, Charming. I always expect a knife in the back - Varric winked and Alistair laughed a little nervously, because he knew it was true. Harrit cleared his throat and only then he noticed the blacksmith was holding a sheathed sword and a steel shield. For a moment Alistair held his breath, but soon enough he realized it wasn’t what he was hoping for. <em> As usual </em>.</p><p>- Back to your question, Alistair - the blacksmith - I would suggest asking sister Leliana, I haven’t seen anything like your equipment… - he started, and then cleared his throat. Before Alistair could ask any further questions, the smith continued - What I mean is I think I would recognize it. I saw it at Redcliffe, when the Darkspawn attacked…</p><p>Alistair raised his eyebrows, taking a closer look at the man. He couldn’t exactly recall meeting Harrit anytime during the Blight, but to be honest, they had met a lot of different people during their travels. </p><p>- Oh, sorry, I don’t think we’ve met back then… Are you a friend of Owen, then? - he asked. He didn’t remember Owen having any apprentices or helpers, but that was his only lead so far.</p><p>- The blacksmith? I think we talked once, but that’s it. I’m not from Redcliffe, you see, I only moved there with my family, working for the army after our village was destroyed - he said, his face turning grim. Alistair nodded slowly. Even ten years after the Blight and the civil wars, the tragedies they caused kept revealing. With the war between mages and templars a lot of people seemed to forget that these lands and people who lived here were still healing.</p><p>- I’m really sorry. Where are you from, then? - he asked. He wasn’t sure if Harrit wanted to speak of it, but he guessed it would hurt to ask.</p><p>- Lothering.</p><p>Alistair didn’t know how to answer that. Instead, memories of the village flooded his mind. <em> All those refugees… We tried to warn them. But we had to move on. So they died, as did many others after them.  </em></p><p>- Lothering? Huh. Didn’t know anyone else made it out of there - Varric said.</p><p>- You mean the Hawkes, I assume, master Tethras? Good people. My daughter and Bethany were friends when they were kids. And she quite fancied that boy, Carver, was he? - there was a soft smile on Harrit’s face now. Alistair was relieved to see it; it was nice to see other people had already figured their lives after all those tragedies. Even if he envied it a bit.</p><p>- Well, Carver is now one of the Wardens, so maybe I can deliver a message if she’s still interested - he joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.</p><p>- She had her own family in Denerim now, but I will make sure to let her know if my son-in-law irritates me again - Harrit laughed and they joined him. The grim undertone was still there somewhere, but they could ignore it for now - Anyway, I hope you will find your things, but for the time meaning, I would be honoured if you accepted those - he handed Alistair the sword first. He held his share of blades in his hands during his thirty years and that one seemed like a good piece of work. It couldn’t exactly compare to Starfang, made from meteorite metal and enchanted by Sandal, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not out loud, at least.</p><p>- Thank you. I take it, these are of your own making? - he asked, sheathing the sword again and placing it at his side. He took the shield next; it was just as good and even though he felt weird attaching it to his back after ten years of using Duncan’s, he wasn’t going to be a brat about it.</p><p>- That’s right. One of my finest crafts, if I may say so, Herald. I mean, Alistair. I doubt I will ever repay you and your order for saving us, but maybe it could be a good start.</p><p>- I appreciate it, honestly. And the armor too - he said. The crest was now attached to his belt; he would probably have to put it away later, but he wanted to have it on him just for a little longer. Especially after what he’d just heard. Harrit nodded and excused himself, going back to work. Alistair grabbed the woolen coat, courtesy of Harrit as well; he wasn’t usually that  easy to get a cold, but he had already learned that every time his post-Taint fever would go away, he would quickly turn very cold instead. Wynne once theoritized it was actually a good sign, that his body was adjusting itself back to normal once free of the “increased” Taint. He wasn’t sure, but that sounded fair enough. He adjusted his equipment one last time, and to longer disturb the other workers there, he left the forgery accompanied by Varric.</p><p>They walked for a while, not exactly in silence as they were passing by the Inquisition troops training, but he was used to these kinds of sounds. Back at Vigil’s Keep or Soldier’s Peak there was always some shield bashing and swords clashing in the air. Especially in the last months when all of the Wardens tried very hard to keep making any kind of noise, anything to keep the Song away.</p><p>He winced, reminded of the Calling again. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about the mark somehow blocking out the music - if that was really the case, he had no idea whether or not it was really the mark’s doing. He was obviously relieved to not be so tormented by it, but it also made him worried. <em> How will I know if it gets worse for the others? What if the mark takes the Taint away completely? I heard about one Warden mage who lost it somehow once… </em> , he thought. He always assumed he would have to submit to the Taint one day, like all the Grey Wardens before him. At some point it stopped really bothering him; he accepted his fate. He was scared when the Calling happened so soon, but that was different, it was <em> unnatural </em>. </p><p>Not that the Taint itself was ever natural in the first place. But it served its purpose, allowing the Wardens to fight Darkspawn, kill archdemons. If all of them had to go meet their Calling at once, Thedas would be doomed with the future Blights one day. Alistair and Luaine couldn’t allow it, especially if… they might have caused it.</p><p>Luaine tried to reassure him that they had no proof that the ritual Morrigan did, the ritual <em> they </em> did somehow led to the early Calling. But he knew she was just as clueless about the case as him. With Morrigan vanishing after Denerim, they had no idea what she was up to with this Old God soul and <em> the child </em>. And then there was the matter of the Architect… </p><p>- Sorry to interrupt, but if you keep furrowing those brows they might stay that way forever. My aunt used to say that to Bartrand when we were little. He never listened, though, and that’s how I became the handsome brother - Varric’s voice snap him out of his thoughts.</p><p>- Well, I guess dwarven proverbs hold some ancient wisdom. Oghren used to say that if I drinked more wine, I would whine much less. And look at me now! Hadn’t had a drop of wine in at least a month and what happens? - Alistair smiled, although he could really use a drink at the moment, especially in Oghren’s company. He really did miss the man.</p><p>- That’s what we call “solid evidence”.</p><p>- Yeah, Oghren was rarely wrong about alcohol.</p><p>- An expert, I take it?</p><p>- Definitely. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen him sober - he joked, but it wasn’t exactly true. With some extra pressure from the rest of the Wardens, the dwarf slowed down with the drinking. The adjustment period was tough but Luaine and Felsi knew how to keep him in line when it was needed. And Alistair was also there to help him let out some steam with their Berserker training sessions. He never really learned what a good father or husband were supposed to look like; he knew Oghren was probably far from ideal. But he knew his friend was really trying and was doing better every year. That was another reason why he <em> had </em> to stop the Calling: to make sure Luaine, Oghren, Sigrun and all of his brothers and sisters had more years coming, to live and get better.</p><p>- And there’s the furrow again… - Varric noticed - Come on, Charming. Spill it - he said. Alistair looked around cautiously, but now there were far enough from the soldiers and others. They were going up the hill, walking on a snowy path towards the trees.</p><p>- Alright, it’s a bit complicated, I don’t exactly know where to start… - he scratched the back of his head nervously. After the Blight he became very cautious about revealing Wardens’ secrets. Mostly because he was too afraid of any more angry letters arriving from Weisshaupt.</p><p>- Well, usually <em> from the beginning </em> is a good option. But if you prefer to be more dramatic you may jump straight into the action and go from there - Varric advised. Alistair thought about it for a moment, then took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs a bit too fast and a bit too sharp.</p><p>- Grey Wardens are in danger - he stated, looking straight forward, trying to focus - All of us, we assume. I mean, not only those in Ferelden. I’m not sure how much Anders has told you about our… special conditions? - he took a quick glance at his friend and it was Varric’s turn to furrow. <em> I guess it’s still a sore spot. Hard to blame him. </em></p><p>- Well some stuff kept coming up every once in a while. I know you’re immune to the Taint in some ways and you can sense the Darkspawn coming. And also sometimes you can hear… things - the dwarf seemed to be a bit uncomfortable about the last part. It concerned Alistair as well. <em> Was Anders hearing his Calling already in Kirkwall? That would be so soon… Maybe it was Justice’s doing? </em>, he wondered.</p><p>- Seems like you know quite a lot - Alistair sighed - But maybe let’s not dwell on it for now. The point is, our abilities have their disadvantages. They are supposed to catch up with you at some point. The problem is, things are no longer the way they were supposed to and in result, Wardens, those in Ferelden and as far as I know also in Orlais, are… disturbed. Some of us are panicking a bit, and for good reasons. Some of us went missing, either looking for a solution or… maybe giving in to the chaos. It’s hard to tell for now and honestly, until I came here, neither me or Luaine managed to gather much. I mean, Warden-Commander Amell…</p><p>- I know who Luaine Amell is, Charming.</p><p>- I know, everyone does. You’d have to be living under a rock for the past decade to not hear about the Hero of Ferelden - Alistair tried not to sound bitter. And he was not, in fact, bitter at all. He just got used to people assuming he <em> was </em>, so he always tried to sound perfectly happy and in awe of his friend when invoking her title, to avoid the looks of pity and overall awkwardness.</p><p>- To be honest, those who did live under a rock know about her too. She pretty much raised Harrowmont to the throne… - Varric tried to cheer him up and he appreciated the effort.</p><p>They reached a small clearing. In the noon daylight reflected on the snow it was hard to look at, but he saw a log big enough for both of them to sit on. There was nearly no snow on it; Alistair assumed it was a popular spot among Haven inhabitants, especially workers, as footprints were still visible on the snow, leading further up the hill, where he could see stacks of wood and some tools left.</p><p>They both sat on the log and Alistair forced himself to look at the Breach again. <em> It has to be connected. Those rogue Wardens came to the Conclave for a reason. Whatever it was and whatever has happened to them… The Breach had something to do with it. Or how the Breach was created </em>. It was a scary thought, but once it appeared, Alistair knew he would have to consider it at some point. The possibility that those Wardens could be responsible for whatever had happened that day. </p><p>- I believe that whatever is happening to the Wardens is connected to all this. I might be wrong, but that’s my only lead so far. A-and I <em> need </em> to see it through. Grey Wa-wardens are all I have - he stuttered at the end. He didn’t mean to say the last part, even though it was true. He had only a few friends outside the order; Varric and Leliana (although that was complicated) were currently the only ones whose whereabouts Alistair was aware of. He occasionally exchanged letters with Zev, he has visited Teagan a few times in Redcliffe and Isabela would sometimes appear out of nowhere to have a drink if she felt like it and happened to be anywhere near Amaranthine, but that was pretty much it. Wardens were his family ever since he left the chantry, which basically meant they were the only family he had ever known.</p><p>There was a hand on his shoulder. He looked at the dwarf and managed a weak smile. <em> Varric’s here. And Leliana, even if she’s acting… strange. I’m not alone. We’re gonna do this </em>, he tried to convince himself. With a comforting touch of a friend, it was slowly working. He exhaled, not even aware he was holding his breath, and relaxed his muscles. </p><p>- That’s right, deep breaths. Every hero needs a moment of peace before going on another journey into the unknown - Varric spoke and Alistair laughed softly.</p><p>- Don’t you dare turn me into another of your stories, Varric - he warned, but there was no edge in his voice.</p><p>- Oh, so you’ve read “The Tale of the Champion”? And my publisher’s been telling me that it wasn’t selling in Ferelden!</p><p>- How could it <em> not </em> be selling in Ferelden? Aren’t like half of the characters from here?</p><p>- That’s not always a good thing. People often prefer more <em> exotic </em> features, you know? To feel the fantasy.</p><p>- I think that checks with a sultry pirate lady and a lyrium infested elf, though. And the Qunari.</p><p>- Well, who would’ve thought you were such a fan of my work?</p><p>- Oh, shut up…</p><p>- No, no, keep praising my work, please.</p><p>- Yeah, you know what I liked the most? The hints about Bianca. Can you elaborate, just for me?</p><p>- Nice try, Charming.</p><p>Alistair laughed. He could still feel the knot in his stomach, but the banter helped him to at least pretend he was at ease. The change of topic was also a plus. He had already learned opening up to those close to him was sometimes necessary, but that didn’t mean he liked being poked for more information about himself and his problems. That was probably why he and Sigrun got close in the first place. She was just as happy to share the stories from her books as she was to listen to him when he felt like talking; she knew his boundaries. </p><p>- Have I ever told you about Sigrun? - he found himself asking, not sure why. Varric shook his head - She’s one of the Wardens, a girl from the Legion of the Dead. She loves books, all sorts, and sometimes would read out loud to me when we had some time to spare back at the Keep - he tried not to blush as the memory of “Swords &amp; Shields” reading sessions. He and Sigrun never really got into <em> that </em> area with their relationship, but she liked teasing him with some of the smuttiest pieces. <em> You’ve got a dirty mind for a dead gal </em>, he used to tell her.</p><p>- So the great Warden was taken this whole time? Such a shame. I guess I should deliver the tragic news to all the fans. You have no idea how many people were asking me about the handsome knight who’d come to Champion’s rescue during the Qunari attack.</p><p>- You’re shitting me.</p><p>- I have a whole stack of letters to prove it - Varric winked and now Alistair was definitely blushing.</p><p>- Well, maybe if you didn’t describe my “broad chest” and “charming smile” with such details, it wouldn’t come to that.</p><p>- I simply spoke the truth. I wouldn’t dare to alter the events I’d witnessed, as you should know - Varric said but even he couldn’t help but smirk at that comment.</p><p>- Sure, that’s why Hawke keeps doing all those somersaults when he fights and Merril impales herself on her own staff every other day?</p><p>The dwarf winced - You would be surprised how messy Daisy can be - he said and Alistair barked out a laugh. He had seen the Dalish girl only a few times and always for a brief moment, but she seemed so cute and innocent (especially compared to Velanna), he could never believe she was an actual blood mage. He would try to ask Carver about the matter sometimes, but poor lad would only rant about his crush on her every time someone would mention Merril. </p><p>- Anyway, I’m not actually <em> taken </em> , for your consideration. Me and Sigrun were… <em> a thing </em> , for a while, but it ended a few years ago. Nothing dramatic, so please don’t tell your fans I’m heartbroken and looking for to console me and teach me what love is once more - he joked, but he gave his friend a pointed look. He doubted the letters Varric mentioned were actually real, however he didn’t want to take his chances - But back to “Tale of the Champion”: Sigrun read it to me and when we found out <em> I </em> was in the story, well, I naturally got interested. So I’ve read the whole thing which means I know your tricks, Varric. So don’t you dare make <em> me </em> into another story! - he shoved the dwarf playfully. Varric shook his head, smirking.</p><p>- Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to. My readers can take only so much of twists and turns; they would never believe that shit you keep pulling off - he patted him on the shoulder again and slided off the log to the snowy ground. Alistair joined him and they headed back to the village.</p><p>- I guess you’re right. Bastard prince, who'd failed at his religious studies, becomes a head of a new andrastian cult in the same mountains where he’d slayed <em> another </em> crazy andrastian cult ten years prior.</p><p>- You see? No one would publish it - Varric said - Also… is it true those cultists who’d lived here were worshipping some dragon as the Andraste reborn?</p><p>- Oh yeah. Crazy bunch, those folks.</p><p>- Well, let me say this then - the dwarf stopped for a moment and looked at Alistair up -and-down - You’re definitely an upgrade compared to a dragon.</p><p>Alistair laughed.</p><p>***</p><p>Alistair was glad to find that most of the people returned to their usual activities (whatever they were) and there was no crowd waiting for him on the walk back to his bed. He could still hear some whispers all around him and pointed fingers, but that was it.</p><p>He left Varric by the campfire, but promised to catch up later, hopefully at the tavern. He figured there was some time left before he was supposed to meet Cassandra and Leliana back at the chantry, so he hoped to catch a moment for himself, maybe take a nap. He wasn’t exactly sleepy, but his body still felt kind of sore and tired; laying down for a bit sounded like a good idea.</p><p>He found his way back to the not-Flemeth’s-hut and pushed the door, lost in thoughts, which almost resulted in walking right into a mage. </p><p>- Oh. Can I help you, Warden? - the man asked politely, although Alistair could hear the irritation. Alistair flushed a bit, but kept his cool. <em> Alright, stay calm and maybe we can avoid getting hexed </em>.</p><p>- Um… - he answered, eloquent as always. Then he saw his bed was already taken: a soldier was sitting on its edge with her arm propped on the nightstand. He could see a small wound covered in some sort of ointment and dirty bandages on the floor - Oh! I’m sorry. It’s an apothecary… - he stated, realizing the obvious just now. <em> Of course it is, you idiot. You were severely wounded, that’s why you woke up in the apothecary. But they’d fixed you and there are more people who need healing. Stop bothering the mage and turn around </em>, he scolded himself.</p><p>- Yes, it is. So if you need my help, please wait there for a moment, I’m almost finished here - the mage said and returned to his patient. And Alistair obeyed, not sure what else to do or where else to go. He sat on a small stool by the fireplace and waited. He felt stupid for simply assuming he could go wherever he pleased and no one would be bothered, but that also comforted him in some way. After being called “Herald of Andraste” and being expected to fix everyone’s problems it felt nice to be put in line, even in that small way which was waiting for his turn at the apothecary.</p><p>So he waited patiently, warming up by the fire and relaxing to the smells of ointments and herbs. Not all of those smells were especially pleasant on their own, but combined they reminded Alistair of Wynne. He could almost hear her softly humming as she used to when she was mending his cuts or brewing him some special potion to ease the pain.</p><p>The mage was true to his word. The soldier was soon ready to go and that she did, saluting him before leaving. He nodded and then turned to the other man, not sure what to say. To his relief, the apothecary spoke first. </p><p>- How is your back? - he asked and Alistair instinctively reached for the sore spot. However, with the pleasant heat of the fire behind him, it didn’t feel that bad.</p><p>- Not too bad, only hurts a little if I stand up too quickly. Or sit down. Or bend over to reach my boots, you know - he said - So, I take it you were the one who fixed me while I was out of it?</p><p>- The name is Adan. And the elf did most of the work with magic, but I took over later - he answered, and then turned to one of the shelves, apparently looking for something.</p><p>- You mean Solas?</p><p>Adan nodded and went back to his search. Alistair nodded slowly too, although the mage couldn’t see it. <em> Or is he really a mage? The robes would suggest that, but I’ve not been turned into a frog so far, so maybe not… </em>, he thought. </p><p>- Well, thank you anyway. But I guess I should go just lay down for a bit, sorry to bother you - he started and slowly got up, already missing the warmth of the fireplace.</p><p>- No problem, Warden. And laying down seems like a good idea, time is the best healer, you know? I suspect they’ve prepared a bed for you at the chantry, you can look for a quartermaster Threnn. If I were you, I would also consider a warm bath, might ease the pain - Adan spoke and then walked to him with a small flask. He handed it over to Alistair - And here’s some sleeping draught, just in case.</p><p>- Oh, that’s actually great, thank you - he answered honestly; he was quite familiar with sleeping draughts, as the Wardens were usually keeping a good stock of it back at the Keep. It came in handy often for wounded soldiers and even more for nightmare-ridden Wardens.</p><p> - No problem, Warden. Let me know if the pain isn’t gone by tomorrow. And now, if you excuse me… - he said and returned to his vials and reagents. Alistair took that as a sign to leave.</p><p><em> Bath sounds like a good idea </em>, he thought, standing in the chilly air. But he felt anxious about going back to the chantry building already. Before he could resolve that dilemma, he heard a familiar voice. </p><p>- Good morning, Warden - Solas said, leaning against the wall of another hut to his left - Or should I say “the Herald of Andraste”? The Chosen One to save us from upcoming doom? - now there was a smirk on his face. <em> A sarcastic apostate, who would’ve thought… </em></p><p>- Find me a shining armour and even shinier steed first. Without those it feels stupid to call me all those titles, don’t you think? - he walked to the elf. <em> How isn’t he freezing to death only wearing that tunic? Probably magic. Damn apostates. </em></p><p>- I would suggest a griffon, actually. Sadly, they’re extinct. Or are your brothers and sisters secretly holding onto a hidden flock somewhere?</p><p>- You would’ve to ask those upstarts in Weisshaupt, I’m just an honest senior Warden, they just point me in a general Darkspawn-ridden direction and I charge - he kept the banter, joining Solas by the wall. He figured he could at least shelter himself a bit from the wind if they were to chat longer.</p><p>- I will make sure to avoid being anywhere near Darkspawn, then.</p><p>- That’s always a good choice.</p><p>The elf smirked again. From profile, he looked a bit statuesque and very… well, <em> elven </em>. But not in a Dalish way; he would more likely picture him in some of those ruined temples, among all those carvings and paintings, than in a camp deep in the forest. </p><p>- I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of civilizations - Solas spoke. <em> Alright. That was a bit random </em>, he thought, but he kept quiet and listened - I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. Every great war has its heroes. I’m curious what kind you’ll be - he turned to meet Alistair’s eyes. The Warned felt even more uneasy with mage’s gaze on him.</p><p>- You mean like what we saw in the Temple? I saw something like this in an abandoned Warden fortress - he said, trying to avoid that last remark.</p><p>- So you’ve mentioned. Any building strong enough to withstand the rigors of time has a history. Every battlefield is steeped in death.</p><p>
  <em> Well, aren’t you just the cheerful one? </em>
</p><p>- Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds… When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen - he continued. Alistair couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows.</p><p>- So you just take a nap in the middle of ancient ruins, just like that? - he asked. Of course, he had slept in the Deep Roads on many occasions, but never by his own choice.</p><p>- I do set wards. And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live.</p><p>- Huh. Never thought of that - he said, a little dumbfounded.</p><p>- I guess your order prefers a more direct approach.</p><p>Alistair furrowed a little at that remark. </p><p>- Well, when you’re fighting Darkspawn and other Tainted creatures, there’s rarely time for debating and settling our differences before they try to kill or eat us. Or both - he answered, a little spiteful. Solas didn’t look particularly bothered.</p><p>- I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you. Warden’s dedication to stop the Blight is something I find admirable. But I think it’s important to be wary of that commitment too. Setting your mind fully on your major purpose can leave you blind to all the potential outcomes. Or casualties. Don’t you agree?</p><p>Alistair couldn’t really argue with that, even though he wanted. He remembered Avernus’ laboratory, Sophia Dryden summoning demons… Luaine sparing the Architect. He nodded slowly, hoping it would end the discussion about that matter, at least for now.</p><p>They stood there in silence for a moment. Solas kept staring into the distance. Alistair tried to think of anything to say. But it was the mage to finally speak up again. </p><p>- I will stay, at least until the Breach has been closed.</p><p>- Thank you. If it weren’t for you, we probably couldn’t figure out how to deal with all those rifts and <em> this </em> - he waved his left hand if it wasn’t obvious what he meant.</p><p>- It stopped growing, then. Good. You will need it in days to come - he said, sounding quite sure of that, which didn’t help Alistair nerves. But it reminded him of what Adan had said earlier.</p><p>- Oh, and I’ve heard you were the one to make sure I survived the last three days? - he asked and Solas nodded - Well, then thank you, again. Seems like you’ve saved my life twice this week.</p><p>- I was glad to help. As I’ve said before, if the Breach is not dealt with, we’re all doomed.</p><p>*** </p><p>With that final positive remark, Alistair figured it was time to go. After a bit of an awkward goodbye, he left for the chantry. <em> Maybe I could manage a bath before the meeting? Adan said to look for Quartermaster Threnn… </em></p><p>He had no idea how this Threnn looked like, but he noticed a few soldiers standing in line to a woman handing some packages by a tent and a table with some documents on. He assumed it was a good start and joined the line, trying not to draw any attention towards himself. Soldiers seemed occupied enough with conversation among themselves so they didn’t notice him, which was a relief.</p><p>As he waited, he wondered how Luaine would act in this sort of situation. Despite their deep friendship, they were two very different people. Even though she grew in a Circle of Magi, once she took the lead of their fatal quest, she rarely faltered. He knew she doubted herself many times, but she always managed to keep her posture and look like she knew exactly what she was doing. He truly admired her for it, but also envied it, especially whenever she was away. Despite knowing her so well, when he would find himself wondering <em> what would Amell do </em>, he couldn’t find the answer. He simply couldn't manage that level of confidence.</p><p><em> I should write to her as soon as possible. Maybe Leliana already did, but she doesn’t know everything, </em> he thought. <em> Should I explain everything to Leliana? We could figure it all out if we worked together, especially if Luaine came and helped. I could send a message to Zevran, too. And Wynne, </em>he thought and then winced. Nearly a year ago he and Luaine received a letter from Leliana about Wynne passing away. He still didn’t know the details, but knew where her ashes were buried. He hoped he could visit her resting place one day. </p><p>- Step forward, I don’t have all… Oh. You’re <em> him </em> - he heard and looked up, realizing the line cleared out and it was his time to talk to the (assumed) quartermaster. So he moved forward, even though neither her tone or the look on her face looked particularly inviting. He was getting real tired of being recognized by everyone.</p><p>- Um, yes, I’m Alistair, nice to meet you. I’m looking for Threnn, the quartermaster? - he asked. He had a feeling this woman had already set her mind on not liking him, but didn’t hurt to be polite.</p><p>- So you’ve found me. How can I help you? - she answered. <em> Alright. Straight to the point, if that suits you. </em></p><p>- I was told you’re the one to talk to in the matter of, um, living arrangements. I mean, could you please tell me where am I supposed to… go? - he tried to straight-forward, but Threnn stern expression didn’t boost his confidence a bit.</p><p>- By Sister Leliana’s order, you were placed with the captains, Warden, in the right wing of the Chantry - she pointed to the building behind him - Go to the end of the hall, the door will be to your right. There should already be a bunk waiting for you. If the accommodation is not up to your standards, state your concern to lady Montilyet, I’m sure she will figure something out.</p><p>- No, no, I’m sure it’s fine - he said quickly. He nearly commented how it would be <em> so nice </em> to sleep in the same corridor where the previous cult held their hostages ten years ago, but stopped himself. He also wanted to ask about the bath, but after Thren’s last remark he decided to let it go. <em> I guess some people are just immune to my charm, he thought. </em></p><p>- That’s all I wanted. Thank you, quartermaster - he said and she answered with a polite-enough nod. He nodded too, not sure why, and then left, trying not to look like he wanted to get away from her as fast as possible, even if that was the case.</p><p>As he stepped inside the chantry building and found himself out of Threnn’s earshot, he let out a long sigh. <em> It’s fine. At least Harrit likes me. And Varric’s here. Now let’s just hope the officers don’t snore as loud as Nathaniel </em>, he thought as he walked through the hall. There were some soldiers and chantry sisters there, some of them looking at him curiously, but he kept going.</p><p>As he got closer to the end of the hallway, he saw two more soldiers standing by the entrance to the right, where he was supposed to go. Both men wore uniforms similar to the rest of people in the valley, but he could already tell from their postures and their tone that they were among the higher ranks. <em> Maybe these are the captains Threnn mentioned </em>, he thought, so he decided to introduce himself. </p><p>- Um, good morning - he said. <em> Great start, Alistair, real smooth. </em>Two strangers seemed a little surprised, clearly not sure who they were dealing with; Alistair appreciated that, actually, as not being recognized right away was a nice change. It didn’t last long, however, as he could see the moment the man on the right, an elf with blond hair, connected the dots. Or the stripes on Alistair’s armor, actually.</p><p>- Warden - he nodded with a simple greeting. The other man, a human with tattooed lines running down his chin and on one side of his nose, looked taken aback for a moment, but then he also collected himself.</p><p>- Oh, good morning to you too, Warden - he responded, reaching for a handshake. Alistair gladly accepted it, and then from the elf as well.</p><p>- Captain Rylen - the tattooed guy introduced himself.</p><p>- Farrow. Lieutenant Farrow - said the elf. Alistar’s eyes drifted to the full quiver strapped onto Farrow’s back and had to force his mouth shut before any remark escaped it.</p><p>- Alistair. Nice to meet you both. Quartermaster Threnn told I am to bunk with you… - he started, really hoping all of this wasn’t any sort of cruel joke. Not that he suspected Threnn to be so mean for no reason, but… yeah, he wouldn’t be surprised.</p><p>- Oh, so you’ve met her already? Isn’t she a real charmer… - Farrow laughed. Seeing Rylen also failed to hide his smirk, Alistair grinned and nodded.</p><p>- Well, I guess neither am I. None of <em> my </em> charms seemed to work on her, too - he gladly went on with the light banter, already feeling a little more comfortable. <em> Joking with the soldiers, not that different than the Keep. </em></p><p>- She’s quite alright once you get to know her, but yeah, first impressions are not her forte - Rylen added.</p><p>- Anyway, I suppose congratulations are in order, eh? Our rooms are quite an upgrade compared to your, um, previous accommodations. You know. I mean the… - Farrow started.</p><p>- You mean the dungeon, yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows - Rylen finished, rolling his eyes. Then he looked at Alistair - I hope we’ll be a bit more pleasant company than that lunatic cultist, however.</p><p>Alistair paled as he heard that. <em> Wait, which lunatic cultist? </em>, he thought. For a second he thought it meant Cassandra, but Rylen didn’t seem like someone crazy enough to call the Seeker a “lunatic” when she could be near. </p><p>- I’m not sure who... - he didn’t know how to finish that sentence, but Farrow was happy to help.</p><p>- You say you haven’t noticed that woman in the dungeons? With that painted face of hers? No offence, Captain - he glanced at the other man, smirking. Rylen rolled his eyes again, but it didn’t have much of an effect with the smile below them.</p><p>- Sorry, I should’ve realised you were probably busy with other things when you were staying down there… Anyway, we have one prisoner at the moment. We found here lurking in the mountains before the Conclave. At first we thought her to be just a scavenger, maybe a mercenary for either mages or templars, but she turned out to be one of those “Disciples of Andraste”. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of them…</p><p>Farrow barked out a laugh, then looked at Alistair.</p><p>- Excuse him Warden, he’s from the Free Marches - he explained jokingly - Captain, he had been <em> there </em>. He’s the one who drove them off from here during the Blight.</p><p>Alistair winced at that. <em> More like slaughtered them </em> <b> <em>right</em> </b> <em> here during the Blight </em>, he thought. He kept a weak smile, however. </p><p>- I wasn’t alone. But yes, we came here ten years ago and fought them. I didn’t know some cultists were still… around.</p><p>Rylen nodded slowly, looking at him even more curiously. </p><p>- We know only of her so far. But if you were there, does it mean you’ve seen…?</p><p>- The Urn? Yes. It’s quite a long story, but maybe I could tell you both about it later - he started to like both of the soldiers, but he was really hoping to get a moment to himself in a quiet space before meeting with Cassandra and the others.</p><p>- I would like that - Rylen took the message and moved aside to let Alistair through - As far as I know, you were placed in the last room to the left, with the Commander. See you later, Warden - he added. Farrow winked at him for goodbye; a manner which reminded him of Zevran. He let his gaze linger for a moment on the elf, but not pushing his luck, he waved them both and moved along.</p><p>And then he realized what he was told a moment ago.</p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That’s… unexpected. </em>
</p><p>He was aware that Haven Chantry wasn’t a particularly large building, so he shouldn’t be so surprised that even high rank members of Divine’s army didn’t have their own rooms here. And he didn’t mind sharing; at Vigil’s Keep he bunked with the rest of senior Wardens and while travelling with them, they were often sharing tents. But there was a difference between sleeping in the same room with other soldiers and sharing with the commander. Especially when said commander was his long lost childhood friend and when their last encounter (except on the way to the Temple three days ago) had a bit too much of Abominations, blood mages and torture.</p><p><em> At least we will have a chance to catch up </em> , he tried to think positive. Not that he preferred to avoid Cullen; he actually hoped for a chance to talk. But he hoped to do that over a beer, maybe in that tavern outside, not in a closed, private space. <em> Well, Alistair, you’ve been in far more awkward situations before. It’ll be fine. Go get a nap, idiot. </em></p><p>So he walked until he found the last room on the right. He took a deep breath, staring at the door. He could hear someone moving inside, so after another moment of hesitation he knocked. He hoped it was just one of the servants on the other side, but then he heard the familiar voice. </p><p>- Yes? What is it? - Cullen asked. For a moment he considered turning back and hiding somewhere, but somehow he resisted the urge.</p><p>- Um, hello Cullen. I mean, Commander Rutherford. It’s me. I mean, Alistair. Warden. Or the Herald, apparently - he said before biting his tongue; on purpose, of course. <em> Why would you introduce yourself to Cullen as “the Herald”? </em></p><p>- Oh, sure… Enter, then - the man on the other side responded. So Alistair pushed to the door and walked inside.</p><p>- Hope I’m not disturbing you, captain Rylen outside told me I’m… - he started but instantly forgot whatever he was going to say, as he saw the one and only Cullen Rutherford, naked.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i guess that's called a cliffhanger?</p><p>feel free to leave comments below! and sorry it took so long to update, i had some work to do, hopefully there won't be that much of a dleay with the next chapter</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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